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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210079">The End of the World as We Know It (But Not Really)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiraisstillhere/pseuds/kiraisstillhere'>kiraisstillhere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And Very Dumb, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, More tags to be added, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, aaron has a lot of stuff going on, aaron is just very high, aaron relapses this is not a pretty beginning, and doesn't realize how gone he is for aaron, eventual Matt/Aaron, he's trying to hold himself together, matt boyd is pining, matt is very sweet, please mind the tags, self-deprecation, talks about relapsing, this is the most angst i've written in a while, this starts off very emotionally heavy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:08:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiraisstillhere/pseuds/kiraisstillhere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Matt!” Aaron said gleefully.</p><p>It took Matt a moment to even realize that it was Aaron on the line. The happy voice on the phone was nothing like the normal Aaron. Matt didn’t like the excitement in his tone, especially this late into the night. It was wrong, off in some way he couldn’t quite place his finger on.<br/>--<br/>Or; Aaron gets high, Matt tries to be a good friend, and realizes that maybe he wants to be more than a friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Boyd/Aaron Minyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I Got A Brand New Numb</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>a good amount of angst, and quite a few trigger warnings! i'll do my best to tag them and warn in each chapter, but please mind the tags!!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i came up with this on my own, but fleshed it out with <a href="https://twitter.com/nightquills">nightquills</a> on twitter! i’ve never written a rarepair before, and it's my first time writing angst in a long time, i hope you enjoy! </p><p>chapter title from "brand new numb" by motionless in white</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>--</p><p>Matt was having a pleasant night. Dan, Renee, and Allison had taken a weekend trip to the beach for “much-needed” (Allison’s words, not his) girls’ time. He wasn’t sure where Neil and Andrew, or the rest of their group had disappeared to, but Matt assumed it was Eden’s. It was a Friday after all. To combat his boredom in the dorms, he had studied for his Psych test coming up, made dinner, and turned in early for the night. Well, early for him. It was certainly after midnight, but it wasn’t like anyone was really keeping track on the weekend. He liked and replied to a few fans’ tweets, and was comfortably laying in bed, watching the moon through his window. He was on his way to sleep when he heard his phone buzz on his bed stand.</p><p> </p><p><em> Neil shouldn’t be back this early </em>, he thought as he sat up blearily and waited for the drowsiness in his head to dissipate. He shifted his back a bit as he tossed his blankets aside, the cold air from the dorm going through his shirt and sending goosebumps up his arms. He shoved himself off the bed and shuffled his way toward the door, feeling one of his vertebrae pop back into place. It was lost on Matt as to why Neil wasn’t just using his key, but he brushed it off as forgetfulness. Maybe he had left it in his room by accident.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m coming, hold on a second,” Matt said to no one in particular. Not bothering to flick on the lights, he grabbed his phone, but didn’t check the message, just assuming that Neil was waiting.</p><p> </p><p>That was his first mistake.</p><p> </p><p>It was still weird though, that Neil would be at the dorms on a Friday. Unless something really bad had happened - and Neil’s definition of “really bad” wasn’t exactly accurate - he and the others should be in Columbia for at least the night, if not the entire weekend.</p><p> </p><p>When Matt opened the door, he was expecting Neil with an ice pack pressed to his head, Andrew rolling his eyes at his side, or Kevin, with some hastily drawn new formations to shove into his hands before going to his own dorm, or even Nicky, waiting to hand Matt one of his midnight coffees from the McDonald’s a few minutes away. </p><p> </p><p>Matt was not expecting it to be empty, with no sign of his roommate being in the hall at all.</p><p> </p><p>He squinted his eyes for a moment, as if Neil would somehow appear, before shrugging and shutting the door again. Matt rubbed his eye and yawned, in the process of opening his phone to check his messages when it started buzzing in his hand - this time, a call and not a text.</p><p> </p><p>He furrowed his brows when Aaron’s name came up on the caller ID. Of course he <em> had </em>Aaron’s number saved in his phone, that was no surprise. Coach had them add everyone’s numbers right after his own ordeal at Eden’s, threatening that he would make them run for both morning and afternoon practice for a week if they didn’t. It was just surprising that Aaron was calling him at all. The other Minyard wasn’t exactly known for being social, though he had been making an effort lately.</p><p> </p><p>Although surprised, who was Matt to deny a teammate in need? He slid his thumb across the screen and picked up.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Aaron, what’s up?” Matt asked, his voice thick with sleep. He wandered over to the couches in the main common area and flopped down onto his stomach on one of them, leaning up against the cushions haphazardly. He propped his forearm on the arm of the couch and rested his chin on it, staring at the strips of light being cast onto the wall ahead of him from the blinds. The scratchy fabric wasn’t comfortable, but he figured he’d be in his bed soon anyways, so he would deal with it for the time being.</p><p> </p><p>“Matt!” Aaron said gleefully.</p><p> </p><p>It took Matt a moment to even realize that it was Aaron on the line. The happy voice on the phone was nothing like the normal Aaron. Matt didn’t like the excitement in his tone, especially this late into the night. It was wrong, off in some way he couldn’t quite place his finger on. </p><p> </p><p>“I have something to tell you. But you gotta come to our dorm to find out.” Aaron’s words were direct and to the point, as if he were about to say something groundbreaking. It sounded like he couldn’t fully form the words around his tongue. </p><p> </p><p>He sounded<em> wrong </em>. God, he sounded so wrong, so unlike the Aaron that Matt knew, in so many ways. Aaron wasn’t bubbly or joyful; he wasn’t direct unless he was pissed off, and he most definitely didn’t speak like he was going to release a brand new discovery into the world. Aaron Minyard was not someone who called in the middle of the night. He was a man of few words, who kept his focus on getting into med school and doing his classes. Aaron didn’t care for team bonding or lunches or any of that. He had Katelyn, and he had himself, and he tolerated the rest of his team. Aaron didn’t talk like he was trying to find the words to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Matt? Are you listening? You gotta come to the dorm?” Aaron asked, but his words were slow and lilting.</p><p> </p><p>And <em> fuck </em>, Matt knew what Aaron’s voice sounded like.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be there, give me two minutes,” Matt said, feeling nerves start to spike under his skin. “Can you stay on the phone with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm-hmm,” Aaron answered, syrupy-slow, and he started humming an off-key tune that Matt couldn’t place. He wondered if Aaron was just making sounds to pass the time. He could see the dorky grin that was probably on Aaron’s face, clear as day in his head. Matt rolled off the couch with a newfound energy and hurried to his room. He grabbed his door key and did his best to stop himself from sprinting into the hallway, calmly shutting the door behind him before he walked towards Aaron’s dorm.</p><p> </p><p>Matt kept his phone pressed to his ear as he made the short walk down the hall to the underclassmen’s dorm. The moonlight shone through the windows, and Matt wanted to tell it to fuck off, because holy shit, something bad was happening. What right did the moon have to be shining at a time like this? </p><p> </p><p>Aaron continued humming to himself.</p><p> </p><p>As he came up to the white door, Matt realized that he had no idea how he was supposed to get into the dorm, considering he didn’t have a key. It wasn’t something that he had to worry about for long though, because before he could knock, the door opened and Aaron came stumbling out, tripping over his feet and heading straight for the floor. Matt reached out and caught Aaron’s full body weight, huffing out a breath as if he were bench pressing a new weight as the backliner fell into his arms. God, he was a lot heavier than he looked, and Matt felt his muscles scream from the unexpected workout.</p><p> </p><p>He squatted down and gently placed Aaron against the hallway’s wall, grateful now more than ever that the exy team had this floor to themselves. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if anyone else saw Aaron like this. Nothing good, that was for certain. Aaron was nothing but jelly bones, his head lolling back against the wall as he grinned at nothing in particular. Matt stood up for a moment, lacing his fingers behind the back of his head and took a breath. Aaron was leaning to the side, slowly but surely sliding down to the gross carpeting beneath him. He was still humming along to nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron looked so <em> small </em> in that moment. Here he was, in all his five foot glory, crumpled against the wall and staring off into nothingness. Knees pulled to his chest, arms curled in his lap, his head nodding down against his shoulder and putting his neck in one of the most uncomfortable positions that Matt had ever seen. Matt was struck by the realization that Aaron’s personality and attitude on the court made up for his small stature. His willingness to throw down with anyone who tried to get close to the goal, his innate need to prove himself against all odds, even his love for Katelyn; all of it was gone right now. With all of it stripped away, he was just the short kid who had joined the team under questionable circumstances with his brother and his cousin.</p><p> </p><p>Matt squatted down next to Aaron, taking in his appearance as the man closed his eyes and breathlessly giggled at something only he could think of. Aaron’s cheeks were flushed red, dangerously close to being feverish. Matt reached out and set the back of his hand against Aaron’s forehead, feeling out his temperature. Just as he had suspected - Aaron was sweating like no tomorrow, despite the air conditioned building.</p><p> </p><p><em> Fucking hell, Aaron </em>, he thought. Matt slowly took a breath in through his nose, trying to figure out what Aaron had taken. It had to be something over the counter - there was no way that he could’ve gotten something illegal in without Andrew knowing. If Matt was making the right guess, it was going to be an easy catch. He caught nothing on his first or second tries, but they do say that third time’s the charm, and so it was. Matt caught a whiff of extra-chemical black licorice and closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips together while a terrible blend of relief, disappointment, and irritation wash over him.</p><p> </p><p>Cough syrup.</p><p> </p><p>Matt didn’t know what Aaron’s preferred pills were when he was still using as a teenager, but it was clear now that Aaron had really fought to find this stuff. He didn’t have a car, as far as Matt knew, which left him wondering how Aaron had actually managed to go out and buy cough syrup in the first place. Obviously, Andrew treated him like a separate adult for the most part, but Matt could guess that drugs were definitely a vetoed item in the dorm.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, addiction was a stubborn disease, and Aaron probably hadn’t been thinking straight, and Matt found himself wondering if Aaron had paid someone else to get it for him. It wouldn’t be a surprise.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled his hand away from Aaron’s forehead and reached for his wrist to check his pulse. Somehow, he thought that touching Aaron’s neck was not the best move at the moment. A hand under the jaw might leave Matt with a sizeable bite mark that he really wouldn’t be prepared to explain. Matt felt around Aaron’s wrist for a moment before he found his pulse point, feeling the way that Aaron’s heartbeat was much faster than it should have been.</p><p> </p><p>Matt remembered his own times using. He remembered his dad throwing parenting to the wind, letting his son do anything he wanted. He was a cool dad, wasn’t he? As long as Matt was safe at home, it wasn’t like he was <em> hurting </em>anyone else. Matt could do whatever, as long as he didn’t bother is the celebrities making appearances in the apartment. Matt remembered having it all - anything he wanted, right in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>Until the supply ran out. Until his high wasn’t high enough. Until he was shaking in his bed, cold sweat soaking through the expensive linens while his stomach turned in knots; the world around him spinning when he managed to pull himself to the bathroom in time to dry heave stomach acid and bile into the toilet because his body couldn’t keep food down for more than a few minutes.</p><p> </p><p>He remembered calling his dad and crying for more. Sobbing and begging until frantic clammy hands were given a rolled up hundred dollar bill and a dusty mirror, or until careful hands that weren’t his own gently pushed a syringe into his veins. The relief that poured through only seconds afterward, eyes rolling back as the drugs spread warm sunshine through his bloodstream once again.</p><p> </p><p>Matt remembered everything.</p><p> </p><p>He was still squatting on the floor, one hand helping him balance. “Aaron,” Matt said, his voice soft and a little shocked. Aaron dragged his head up from staring at the floor. He could feel ice chips in his bones as he looked at his teammate. Those sleepy, glassy eyes would haunt his mind for a while. “What are you doing, buddy?”</p><p> </p><p>“Drugs,” Aaron said slowly, taking his time to find each letter. He flashed his teeth at Matt, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. With his dazed look and blissed-out smile, he looked a lot like a manic Andrew. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Matt said, nodding slowly, despite the fact that Aaron couldn’t see it. “I can see that.” Internally, his stomach dropped to his feet. Realistically, he chewed on his lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out his next steps. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t leave Aaron propped against the wall for multiple reasons - starting with the fact that Aaron was high as balls, and ending with the fact that Matt preferred to not be gutted by Andrew - and he doubted that Aaron had grabbed his key before ending up in the hallway. </p><p> </p><p>After a few minutes of self-deliberation, it left him with only one clear option, plus, his calves were screaming from being forced to stay squatted for so long. Matt was honestly starting to feel the need for sleep in his drooping eyelids, so he made the executive decision to take Aaron back to his dorm to ride out his high for the night. He duck-walked forward and got up next to Aaron, reaching out and nudging his chin with his thumb and forefinger.</p><p> </p><p>“Aaron? You good, dude?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron giggled and shimmied his shoulders for no reason. “Good, good, good,” he repeated softly, vastly interested in the word. His eyes had gone back to being closed, but they would <em> hopefully </em> be open in the morning, if Aaron was able to sleep this off.</p><p> </p><p> “As good as you’re going to get for now, I suppose,” Matt said, mostly to himself, but he doubted Aaron was listening anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Matt nudged his way next Aaron and slung one of Aaron’s arms over his neck. He slid an arm around Aaron’s waist and got his feet placed so that he could lift him up.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna get you standing, okay?” Matt said gently. He was only half-listening to himself speak, though, wondering how he was going to lift Aaron and help him walk if he was nearly two feet taller than he was.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t wanna,” Aaron said , his lips curling downward. “I like where I am.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt rolled his eyes. Of course Aaron was going to be argumentative. Thankfully, he was also lacking the motor function to legitimately fight back. Matt took a deep breath and hoisted Aaron to his feet, the backliner groaning like it was the hardest thing he’d had to do in his entire life.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop complaining, you got yourself in this situation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bitch,” Aaron said with a weak giggle, more like it was a fleeting thought than a realistic insult.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Matt responded sarcastically, like he was answering a toddler who was being rude to him. “Aaron, I’m gonna carry you to my dorm, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>The amount of times he was repeating the word “okay” was not something Matt ever thought possible.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron scoffed. “Whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt was a little glad that even intoxicated Aaron was still able to catch an attitude when he didn’t like something, but couldn’t argue with it. It proved that he wasn’t completely off in his own little dreamland.</p><p> </p><p>“Three… two… one,” Matt counted down, and then scooped Aaron up into his arms. When he and Dan were dating, this would’ve been a bridal carry. Now, with Aaron, it felt like Matt was taking care of a child who’d fallen asleep on a long car ride. </p><p> </p><p>Once Matt was certain that he wouldn’t drop Aaron, he carried him back to his own dorm. Aaron was back to humming his little song, pleasantly unaware of the details of what was happening to him. Matt fumbled with his key for a second, doing his best to keep Aaron balanced in his arms. Aaron apparently had other ideas, shifting from the movement. He kept trying to twist himself out of Matt’s hold, weakly kicking his legs out and worming his way downward, like his intention was to slip out from underneath his grip.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop squirming, I’m not trying to drop your ass on the floor,” Matt grumbled, hoisting Aaron up again before he could succeed with his escape plan.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron harumphed, but stopped moving. After a second of quiet, his humming came back once again. It was vaguely comforting to Matt, feeling his voice against his chest. Warm breaths reminded Matt that Aaron, as languidly slow as he was right now, was still alive.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Matt got his door open, carrying Aaron with one arm wrapped under his legs, his bicep supporting Aaron’s back and his hand holding Aaron up by the knees, effectively curling the backliner into the fetal position while his legs dangled aimlessly. Matt stopped at the kitchenette counter for a moment, resting up against it to breathe for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron weakly tried to adjust himself in Matt’s arms again, and Matt groaned a little from exasperation.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna drop you if you keep moving.”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron, not listening, shifted again, tossing the arm that wasn’t trapped between his torso and Matt’s chest around Matt’s neck loosely. “Feel bad,” he mumbled against Matt’s neck.</p><p> </p><p>Matt straightened up again, tightening his hold on Aaron. “”Bad” like emotionally, or “bad” like you’re going to puke on my kitchen counter?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron grunted.</p><p> </p><p>Matt nodded once and hoped that Aaron could hold himself together a little longer. Being jostled around probably wasn’t helping with the nausea, but it wasn’t like Matt could magically warp Aaron into the bathroom. For the first time, Matt actually felt <em> grateful </em>that he wore old t-shirts to sleep in, because Aaron would have to settle for whining against his shirt collar instead. He could wash spit out of a shirt. He could wash vomit out too, he supposed, but with the bathroom so close, Matt didn’t want to have the latter happen if it didn’t need to.</p><p> </p><p>The bathroom was right in front of the bedroom doorway and barely five steps away from the kitchen, but to Matt, it felt like it would take  forever to get to it. He pushed the door open with his foot and adjusted Aaron so that he could flip the light switch on. He squinted his eyes at the bright lights for a moment, and took the last few steps to the toilet.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna sit you down in front of the toilet,” he told Aaron, carefully moving his arms to keep from shaking Aaron more than necessary while he sat him down. Aaron whined into his shirt more.</p><p> </p><p>“Do <em> not </em> throw up on me, you’re right here,” Matt said firmly, grabbing the collar of Aaron’s crewneck and moving him to face the seat in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>Andrew had dropped off a shower mat the other day after finding out that Matt and Neil didn’t have one, grumbling about how they were “heathens”. The cushy black rug was at the perfect spot for Matt to set Aaron down, close enough to the toilet bowl without too much effort. Aaron listed to the side again, his cheek pressing into the cool porcelain of the shower’s outer wall. He sighed, accepting the cool material, and Matt saw his shoulders slump and his eyes close as he sat on the dusty hardwood next to Aaron. He and Neil really should sweep this week, Matt thought.</p><p> </p><p>He was pulled back to reality by Aaron lurching forward and retching. Matt watched with sad eyes as his teammate leaned over, knowing that Aaron probably felt like he was dying in this moment. Matt reached over and put his hand on Aaron’s back, rubbing gentle circles between Aaron’s shoulder blades. He winced at every single choked out cough that followed, aftershocks wracking through Aaron’s ribcage.</p><p> </p><p>How much had Aaron taken? The whole bottle? He wasn’t hallucinating, as far as Matt knew, but Aaron also hadn’t exactly been talkative. He wondered about when the last time Aaron had eaten a proper meal. Matt had chicken adobo leftover in the fridge. Maybe Aaron could eat that?</p><p> </p><p><em> That’s not the main issue right now </em>, Matt reminded himself, shaking his head a little. Aaron was high. Very high, and he didn’t look to be coming down anytime soon. Matt needed to get him into bed before he passed out in the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>He looked down at Aaron, who was breathing heavily, facing the floor, in through his nose and out through his mouth like he’d just gotten out of a game. His forehead was pressed to the toilet seat and Matt could see the sheen of sweat on his face. He seemed to be over the worst of it now, on the slow, slow come down of his mistakes.</p><p> </p><p>“Matt?” Aaron asked, his voice rasping out, barely a whisper. “Can you -?” He cut himself off, grunting a little and reaching his arm behind his back, grabbing Matt’s wrist with trembling fingers. “Just- <em> ugh </em>. Come- come here.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt followed Aaron’s weak attempts at tugging, scooting closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Come <em> here </em>,” Aaron said, mustering as much force as he could. </p><p> </p><p>Matt awkwardly crawled behind Aaron. “What do you want?” He asked, confused and just a little irritated.</p><p> </p><p>“Sit,” Aaron demanded, sounding like he was trying his hardest to be mean through his dazed mindset.</p><p> </p><p>Matt conceded to Aaron’s demands and situated himself on the bath mat, supporting his back against the wall. Aaron wormed himself into Matt’s lap and leaned back, pressing his sweaty back against Matt’s front. He was shaking, and Matt wasn’t sure if it was from the effort, the high, or a nauseating mixture of both.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron reached around for Matt’s hands again, pawing at the floor until he found them and brought them around his waist loosely. He closed his eyes and sighed, sinking into Matt’s chest. Matt tilted his head back against the wall and left his arms to rest. Aaron was shaking, and, after a second deep sigh, Aaron started humming for the umpteenth time. Matt could feel the vibrations through his chest, glad for the reassurance that Aaron was still breathing, regardless of how annoying the tune had become after who knows how long Matt had been taking care of him.</p><p> </p><p><em> Taking care of Aaron </em> . Matt had never thought that the other Minyard would need someone to take care of him the way that Matt was now, holding him and offering a solid place to rest in the turmoil of whatever was going on in his personal life. Aaron just needed a place to stay for the night. A place to just <em> be </em> for a moment. Matt knew the feeling well. It was why they’d both used in the first place, wasn’t it? To just exist in the mess that was the rest of their lives?</p><p> </p><p>For a while, they just laid there like that; Aaron’s weight a comfortable pressure against his chest. Matt had gotten used to the fan of the bathroom humming along in its own off-beat way, adding a bass to Aaron’s notes. He felt his eyelids drooping, his breathing only hindered a little bit by Aaron. Matt wondered how long it was going to take Aaron to stop trembling, and when his temperature would come down. It couldn’t be comfortable leaning against Matt - he’d been called a human space heater more than once, he knew that Aaron wasn’t being helped by zoning out against him. He nudged Aaron’s lax bicep, causing him to tilt his chin to look up at Matt, opening his eyes slowly. Matt saw dazed hazel meet his own stare, and for a moment it was like the only thing in his space was Aaron, the lull of the fan, and the buzz of the light over the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron’s eyes were glassy, but clearer than they’d been when he’d stumbled into the hallway and, coincidentally, Matt’s arms. It was reassuring that he was coming down without too much of a problem. Matt wished for a moment that he could stay and be Aaron’s rock a little longer, but the bath mat was only soft for a little while, and the hardwood underneath was starting to hurt Matt’s ass from sitting for so long. Matt almost felt bad for having to bring the poor man back to the land of the living for a moment longer.</p><p> </p><p>Almost.</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon Aaron, let’s get up. My back hurts.” Matt sat up, pulling himself from the wall, forcing Aaron to sit up as well. His lower back was going to hurt like a bitch in the morning. Aaron groaned. At this point, Matt decided that he should start keeping a tally. “Unless you’re going to puke again?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron shook his head - still slow and dragged out, but better than before. Matt was glad to see that he could open his eyes and focus his vision a little more.</p><p> </p><p>Matt repeated his process of getting his feet under himself and scooping Aaron into his arms, helping him readjust for the two steps to his room. Aaron leaned his damp temple against Matt’s shoulder while Matt got his hands situated. He stopped for a moment after they’d gotten comfortable, looking at their reflection in the mirror. Matt was once again struck by how <em> small </em> Aaron was when he didn’t have his attitude to support him. Curled in Matt’s arms, face pressed against his shirt and his shoulders slack while his free arm hung down lazily? He looked… breakable, almost, like he had to be handled with care.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed again, taking one last glance at the reflection staring back at him. Something dropped in his chest as Aaron started mumbling about how he wanted to believe in guardian angels. Matt had to give up his distraction to flick the light off and walk into the bedroom without dropping Aaron.</p><p> </p><p>Matt’s bed was the single one. Seth had graduated, leaving Neil and Matt to room together. Neil refused to let Matt sleep alone, and consequently, left Andrew to sleep alone on weeknights in order to keep an eye on Matt too. Matt mentally thanked whatever deity was listening that it was a Friday night and the bedroom was empty. His sheets were still tossed to the side, leaving his mattress and pillows easily accessible. The moonlight cast slats of light across Matt’s bed, just like it had on the wall in the living room; it looked like an artsy photo Renee would probably post to her Instagram if she were here.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron curled further into Matt’s arms when Matt leaned down and tried to put him on the bed, burrowing his nose into Matt’s neck. “Mom?” He asked slowly, his voice whisper-quiet against skin.</p><p> </p><p>Matt could have sworn that he’d felt his heart shudder in pain for Aaron. He stood back up and held Aaron closer to his chest, letting Aaron lean backward and prop his forehead on the point of his shoulder. The backliner relaxed into the hold, leaning forward and once again turning his face into the junction of Matt’s shoulder and neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Not quite, buddy,” he whispered, wishing he could have known what Aaron was feeling before he got his hands on the NyQuil he’d decided to abuse tonight. He awkwardly reached his hand up to scruff at the hair at the nape of Aaron’s neck. “But I’ve got you for now. You’re safe, Aaron. You’re safe here.”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron somehow relaxed even more, going slack in Matt’s arms. Matt leaned back down and nearly dropped Aaron on the mattress, surprised at the sudden dead weight in his arms. He hoped Aaron couldn’t notice.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed to be his lucky day, since Aaron seemed to roll out of his arms, landing on his back, his head facing the wall that Matt had pushed the bed against from its original spot. It hadn’t been much of a change, but the extra three inches of space between the wall and the frame had been disconcerting for Matt.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron was all but asleep, leaving Matt thankful that his high was quickly nearing its end, but still put him in the unfortunate position of maneuvering the nearly all-muscle body of the backliner around with absolutely no help.</p><p> </p><p>After a few moments of Aaron being absolutely useless, Matt got him on his side, his head resting on Matt’s pillow, bedding pulled up to his shoulders as best as Matt could manage. He grabbed the garbage can from the bathroom and placed it next to the bed, near where Aaron’s head would reach. In the unfortunate case that Aaron woke up in the middle of the night, he wouldn’t have to go far.</p><p> </p><p>Matt grabbed his chair from his desk, grateful that Dan had bought him one of the fancy gaming ones for Christmas. Sitting in it for the night would be marginally more comfortable than the Palmetto-provided wooden one. He situated himself next to the foot of the bed, making sure he was able to monitor Aaron through the night without looming over him.</p><p> </p><p>The moon still shined like Aaron wasn’t sick, and like Matt hadn’t just had his heart broken by his friend’s pain.</p><p> </p><p>“Matt?” Aaron mumbled from the bed. His eyes were still closed, and Matt found himself wishing that he would just <em> go to sleep </em>so that he could sober up without getting a killer headache. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Aaron, ‘m right here,” Matt said, his words soft as he sat next to his bed. “What’cha gotta tell me?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron sighed contentedly, leaning his head downwards towards Matt’s voice. His eyes were closed, that stupid smile still stretched across his face.</p><p> </p><p>“I did something really, really, stupid, didn’t I?”</p><p> </p><p>Matt felt his heart sink in his chest. He wanted to tell Aaron that, no, it was okay, we all make mistakes, or that it wasn’t uncommon for things like this to happen, regardless of how long we’d been in recovery, but he also really, really just wanted to tell him that, yes, it was stupid, and yes, he was going to have to deal with the consequences.</p><p> </p><p>But not tonight. Not while Aaron was laying on his side, Matt’s sheets awkwardly pulled around him, with a trash can next to the bed just in case. Not while Aaron was seeing stars on the ceiling and mumbling about angels who could save him. Tonight, Matt was taking the place of the angels.</p><p> </p><p>Falling asleep was Matt’s second mistake.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm working on the next chapter! follow me on twitter @<a href="https://twitter.com/cybbetta">cybbetta</a><br/>and tumblr @<a href="https://www.alvarezforthegame.tumblr.com">alvarezforthegame</a><br/>check out this chapter's playlist on <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6TDxrOoP1RRqN2vSFxJu9J?si=QC4sjkCJQLOu1OyqxA3Avg">spotify!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Kinda Messed Up, But It's Tough Luck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>MAJOR tw for the first half of the chapter: aaron spiraling and his thoughts of relapse, flashbacks that mention abuse, and a lot of self-deprecation!!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>there's not much to say with this one, but please, please mind the trigger warnings!!</p><p>a huge thank you to <a href="https://twitter.com/nightquills">nightquills</a> for helping me out with the details of this!</p><p>title is from "killer in the mirror" by set it off</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The night had certainly been… long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pressure in his head was the thing that woke him up. Aaron scrunched his face up, feeling the reverb of blood pumping against his temples. He felt warm, something soft and solid beneath him. The cloud of sleep was fading quickly, leaving Aaron more awake and more aware than he wanted to be. He threw his free forearm across his eyes and grimaced, blocking the sunlight he could feel on his skin and making the space behind his eyes darker than it already was. He didn’t want to open his eyes and have to figure out where he was, especially after the freedom he’d been afforded last night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With his brother, his brother’s stupid boyfriend, Kevin, and Nicky gone to Eden’s for the night with no sign of coming back for at least twenty-four hours, Aaron had welcomed the chance to finally not feel like he was going behind their backs in order to cope a little better with the last two weeks. It wasn’t his fault that their presence in the dorm was an overbearing, painful thing that forced him into secrecy. If they could have just left him alone, he wouldn’t have been forced to do things the way he had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re fucking stupid, Aaron!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You just threw away everything you worked so hard to have.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, the last two weeks. He felt a groan deep in his chest, which only served to force the pounding in his head to beat </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>, thrumming away against his ear drums at a steady pace. At least the beat was consistent - the only thing Aaron could be sure of these last weeks had been his heart. That, and the scratch of a dry throat after a long night of chemically-induced smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If you can’t make your own, store bought is fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted some water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two weeks ago, he’d had it all. He’d had Katelyn. He’d had his everything in the palm of his hand, and important things were coming for him, things that would make her smile, things that would have them laughing on the floor and making dinner together and Aaron really understanding what it meant to finally have a safe space.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was three days after Aaron’s slip-up when she confronted him on the stone bench that had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>theirs </span>
  </em>
  <span>since they first started dating. Aaron didn’t know how she’d found out. He was always so careful to hide the evidence, to swallow everything down, to put the empty bottles directly in recycling; anything that it took to guarantee that no one could find out about his little slip-up. It was midterms, and cracker dust and vodka weren’t cutting it the way that they usually did. Who could blame Aaron for needing something a little stronger?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katelyn could, apparently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How could you do this? Do you know what you’ve done to me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She set her jaw and Aaron saw her throat clench around a sob. The stone he was sitting on grew so much colder and he shivered despite the South Carolina humidity, and he felt the little darkness in his head start to grow from where he’d contained it for the day. Katelyn was crying. Really, truly crying in the way that Aaron hated the most. The kind where her tears spilled over and she refused to wipe them because she knew that more would come. He had held her tight through those tears. He had stains on his favorite crew neck’s sleeves from those tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Did our relationship ever even mean anything to you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There it was. The blackness in the back of his mind, opening up and threatening to swallow him whole. Aaron imagined ink on the ends of his fingertips, and Katelyn in sparkling white. If he reached out, he would ruin her. Their relationship had meant everything to him, but he couldn’t even get out an “I’m sorry” before she was holding a hand up, standing away from him like he was dirty, like she could see the ink on his hands too. His very presence said it would pull her down into the darkness within him. He sucked in a shaky breath and felt his throat burn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should get some water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had fucked it up again. Aaron knew that he would. He always did. His mom had always said that, hadn’t she? Aaron had come along and fucked everything up; always Aaron, never Andrew. Andrew didn’t exist to her. Aaron wished that he could trade places with Andrew - he wouldn’t exist, and Andrew would have been stronger. Andrew would have fought back. Andrew would’ve broken her wrist the way that she had broken his. All Aaron had done was take one of the little white pills that his mother had left on the counter in the bathroom for him, waiting for her to come down so that they could get a cast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had taken longer than usual, Aaron remembered. The soft skin of the bumped up scar on the outside of his wrist brushed up against the bridge of his nose, reminding him of the surgery that the doctors had to do to get the bone chips out of the way and set his wrist properly. The pins in his wrist were a constant reminder of what he’d gone through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The memories from</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> night bubbled up from his subconscious; Aaron had been scared at first, because the nurses had taken his mom to a different room and were asking him a lot of questions he didn’t know the answers to, stuff about his mom and how he liked being at home, and if he was hurt anywhere else. He didn’t hate living at home, and he liked school just fine. His mom was nice enough, he guessed. She was nice when they watched cartoons together and when she let him sleep on the couch with her while she held him. He didn’t say anything about when she woke up and left him on the couch, or when she sent him off to school with dirty clothes again. The nurses wrote some stuff down on their papers and he sat in the hospital bed, dangling his feet over the side, waiting for the doctors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coming out of the surgery hadn’t been terrible, and he didn’t even hurt afterwards. He’d been given a sticker from the doctor and so much pain medication. His mom had even let him keep it in his room, telling him that he was so strong and brave, and that she was so sorry. She’d even closed her eyes and made sure he wouldn’t tell her where he’d hidden it. It was his, and he was allowed to take it whenever he felt like he needed to. That was where this had started, he supposed. Aaron heard his heartbeat in his head again, and he grimaced, the dull pain reminding him that he was on a very different comedown compared to back then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron decided to risk opening his eyes, mentally preparing himself to be jolted awake by unfamiliar surroundings - a different part of the dorm, maybe, or the barren rafters of Fox Tower’s ceilings from the hallways, if he was lucky. Aaron didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he was anywhere outside of the third floor, but he couldn’t be sure, especially when everything in his memory was bleary. If he really tried, he could remember being on his phone, and talking to someone. And puking. Cool porcelain against his feverish forehead had felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> should get some water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, and then opened them, furrowing his brows when he was met with the off-white ceiling of a dorm room. Aaron glanced to the side and saw the edge of a windowsill next to his head. When he looked elsewhere in the room, he saw an empty loft bed, some books stacked on a desk. Aaron saw a normal dorm room. Where the fuck was he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> A soft snore drew his attention away from his glancing around the room to the foot of the bed, where he saw none other than Matt Boyd, slid down in a gaming chair that Nicky had been wanting, asleep with his arms crossed over his chest and his head pressed to his shoulder. Aaron realized he must be in Matt’s dorm, in Matt’s bed; that still didn’t answer how the fuck he’d gotten here. Aaron had never seen his hair without its liberty spikes twisted into it. He even pressed them under his helmet for games.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It looked nice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron shook his head slightly, confused as to why Matt’s hair mattered to his current situation. He rolled onto his back and heard the bedframe squeak beneath him, freezing and looking over to Matt with wide eyes. Matt took a deep breath, but continued to sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron could figure out how he’d gotten here later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But first, he really had to use the bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting out of the bed without Matt noticing was a lot easier than Aaron had expected. The frame was a lot quieter than the ones that were in his dorm, and Aaron mentally cursed the lucky bastard. He wondered what it was like to not wake up whenever someone rolled over. He made the bed look a little neater, and then slowly made his way past Matt to the bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This fucking headache was killing Aaron. He wanted to keep the light off when he got into the bathroom, but the idea of being shut in the dark with a mirror was unappealing enough that he’d have to suffer through the too-bright light. He wondered if Matt had anything that could help with it. There had to be ibuprofen or something around the bathroom, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he washed his hands, Aaron looked at his reflection. God, he looked rough. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than they had been in a while, and his eyes looked more sunken in. They were missing </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> that made him look more… alive? He looked like he needed to nap for a long time. The more Aaron stared, the more he noticed about his appearance, his lip curling at every discrepancy he was seeing. He was breaking out, getting spotty across his cheekbones and his nose - he couldn’t remember the last time he’d washed his face - and his hair didn’t look as fluffy as it normally did. There were other things he had noticed during the past weeks, like his inability to do as much as he wanted at the gym, and getting winded more often at practice. He blamed it on classes, but he couldn’t last that way forever. It was fine, he’d just stop when he finished with his last two tests this week.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron pushed his hair back from his forehead and examined the acne for a moment before furrowing his brows and stepping back. Staring too long made his head hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right, that’s what he’d planned to find when he came in here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The medicine cabinet was the first place to check - that was where Nicky put the ibuprofen in their dorm. He opened it as quietly as possible, doing a quick scan of the contents before deciding that there was nothing in it that was useful and that he’d wake Matt up and ask for some. As he went to close the cabinet’s door, Aaron’s eyes caught a flash of orange, and his attention instantly returned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bottle was tucked behind some bandages and a roll of gauze, which Aaron guessed was Matt and Neil’s half-assed version of a first aid setup. He moved the supplies out of the way and grabbed the pill bottle, turning it in his hands to read the label.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Boyd, Matthew D</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ritalin 10 MG Tablet</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Take 2 tablets by mouth daily</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only ten milligrams? Aaron was surprised that Matt wasn’t on more, with how all over the place he was. Him having ADHD actually made a lot of sense, when Aaron thought about it. He guessed that a double dosage was still up there. Aaron wondered if Matt would notice if some of the pills were to go missing. The bottle looked full enough that he might be able to get away with it, if he was careful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One couldn’t hurt, right? Aaron wasn’t a fan of stimulants, but Matt’s ibuprofen was nowhere to be found, and he could probably stand to look a little more awake when Matt got up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell am I thinking?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Aaron thought, hands stopping when they reached the cap. He was mostly taken aback by his own willingness to steal meds - no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Matt’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> meds. Matt needed them to function, in a way that Aaron’s own junkie ass didn’t. These weren’t Aaron’s to take.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was all he was good for though, wasn’t it? Aaron took, and he took, and he took. Everything he did took away from other people’s lives, from their dreams - it was like he was forcing them to pay attention to him when he absolutely didn’t deserve any of the acknowledgement. He took pills to make him feel something. He took Nicky away from Erik. He took Andrew’s real freedom away from him. He took his mom’s life, in the end. If Aaron hadn’t wanted to meet Andrew, maybe his mom would still be alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aaron?” A soft knock sounded at the bathroom door. “You good, buddy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt. One more person Aaron was going to take from. Aaron was greedy, he knew that much, but couldn’t he leave </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of it? He’d already taken Matt’s Friday night. He didn’t need to take up his Saturday too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Aaron said shakily. “I’m just - my head hurts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a pause, before Matt spoke again. “Can I open the door?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaaron looked down at the orange bottle in his hand, glaring up at him. It screamed caution, stop, go back, say no. Aaron stared back at it and ignored every warning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah,” he answered softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bathroom door opened slowly, revealing Matt standing in the hallway, still in his pyjamas, looking concerned. Aaron met Matt’s eyes and with a wide-eyed fear; the kind that animals gave right before they were killed and they had no escape. After a moment that felt like hours, Matt’s eyes flicked down to the bottle Aaron was holding, unopened, held in unmoving hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt reached over slowly and tugged the bottle from Aaron’s grasp, holding it in his own hands now, examining it as if he knew, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> Aaron’s thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That bad, huh?” Matt asked, still looking down at the pills instead of Aaron. “How long?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two weeks,” Aaron said feeling like the words were going to choke him on their way out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had fucked up again, just by thinking. Aaron was going to die some day, and he might die of guilt now if Matt kept looking at the fucking pills, pitying him the way Aaron knew he was. A fucking junkie, caught in the act of stealing drugs, someone who needed to get away, go away, get locked away from the rest of world. He was marked, gross and awful because he couldn’t survive his worst times without shutting them away for a few hours. Aaron knew that, and he knew that Matt knew it, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The unbearable, suffocating silence was broken by Matt, who shoved the pills into the pocket of his pyjama pants and gave Aaron a soft smile. Aaron felt his heart go a little gooey, and he felt his stomach turn. Aaron didn’t deserve that smile - it said that everything was going to be okay, that Aaron was somehow redeemable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I gotta take them with food,” Matt said, his smile growing. “We could grab breakfast somewhere, if you want. Do you have your room key? I don’t think anything of mine will fit you, but you’re welcome to try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Aaron thought, and he meant it. Fucking Matt Boyd, going and being the way he was. Acting like Aaron wasn’t any different, like he wasn’t disgusting and broken and only on this fucking team because Andrew had sweet-talked Wymack into keeping him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Aaron said was: “My key is on my desk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt thought about the statement for a moment before he shrugged. “I think I have some smaller shirts you could try? You might have to settle for wearing your pyjama bottoms though. Then again, I don’t think that Waffle House on a Saturday morning is going to care too much.” He paused for a moment. “Unless you want to do something else? I’m just kinda hungry right now, I don’t really care. Actually, let me grab a few shirts, I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>ADHD making a stunning debut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron watched Matt as he turned and went back into his room. He could hear Matt opening drawers and searching. Aaron followed soon after, silently walking into the room and sitting on Matt’s bed, feet hanging from the edge. He wanted scream. He wanted to punch a wall. His head was still pounding and now his heart was pounding and Aaron couldn’t tell if it was from the drug abuse, or the frustration, or the self-deprecation, and he still wanted some fucking water. Instead, he wound his hands in his lap, popping his knuckles to deal with the nerves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Matt said, turning to face Aaron and holding up three different shirts. “These are the smallest I’ve got, they might still be loose on you, but I think anything is better than one that’s soaked in sweat, you know? And like, you can shower, I guess, but I don’t really have anything else that could fit you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron didn’t even know if his vocal cords still worked. Fuck Matt for being so nice. Fuck him for having clothes and for being a good person. “Thanks,” he said to Matt, reaching his hand out for the shirts. “I’ll choose one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good!” Matt said, entirely too good-natured for being up on a Saturday morning after dealing with Aaron’s stupid self last night. “I’ll see if we can do carry-out or something for Waffle House. Neil finished off our cereal and we haven’t been able to go grocery shopping yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Aaron said again. He didn’t know if he’d meant for the word to come out as emotionless as it did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt gave him one last sunshine smile and walked out the door. “I can order ahead, if you want!” He shut the door with a gentle click and Aaron heard him padding away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d made a mistake by falling asleep - how could he have let Aaron down like that? What if Aaron had taken the Ritalin? He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> high, but you never knew. Matt fiddled with the hem of his shirt, torn between wanting to change now or shower later, and stressed about everything that had happened the night before. Matt had to calm himself down before this got out of hand. Blaming himself if Aaron </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> taken his meds wasn’t the solution, and Matt had done what he could to care for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was that feeling again, warm in his chest. Taking care of Aaron. When he’d found Aaron in the bathroom, Matt had seen that caged animal look, trapped with nowhere to go except into the arms of the beast. Matt wasn’t really sure how to remedy those feelings, but he had faith that the uncertainty was probably helping him avoid crossing far too many boundaries right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt paced around the living room, debating on when he should order breakfast. He had planned on just going to Waffle House with Aaron, but decided against it when he saw the way Aaron’s cheeks paled, caught red-handed with Matt’s medication. Matt knew the feelings well, the internal tearing of </span>
  <em>
    <span>want want want</span>
  </em>
  <span> for anything that would make the hangover stop, warring with the frustration of knowing that the drugs weren’t yours to take. From the hollow fear in Aaron’s eyes, he was very much sober, and very, very scared of Matt’s current opinion of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped pacing when he suddenly remembered that Aaron had a headache.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt went to the cabinets in the kitchen, opening the ones above the stove and shoving aside some cups and spices that he and Neil had stored in it. They hadn’t really designated a place for their spice cabinet, but Matt refused to let Neil live with celery salt and pepper as his only options for flavor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really need to make more adobo seasoning</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Matt thought, looking at the glass jar that usually held it. He made a mental note to text his mom to send him a picture of his Lola’s recipe, and then paused. A mental note was not going to help. Matt took a step back and typed a real note into his phone before going back to his original mission - painkillers for Aaron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt moved the jars aside and grabbed the value-sized bottle of Advil that he and Neil stored in the cabinet. He wasn’t quite sure as to when the Advil ended up in the spice cabinet, but it was the only place that both he and Neil seemed to remember to put it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He set the bottle on the counter top, and then realized that he’d forgotten to ask Aaron what he wanted to eat. Matt reached his hand into his pocket, feeling his own pill bottle. He needed to take his morning dose soon or he’d be in a world of forgetfulness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt walked back over to his room and tapped the back of his knuckles against the wood. Matt could almost feel Aaron flinch from the sound. He wished he would have done something to make Aaron feel safer than this, but the jumpiness that followed a relapse was something that still prickled under Matt’s skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Aaron asked cautiously, voice quieted by the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I forgot to ask what you wanted for breakfast,” Matt said, in a way he could only describe as shy. He felt a blush rising on his cheeks, but chalked it up to the familiar embarrassment of having to ask after forgetting something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Aaron said calmer, but still careful. Matt was glad Aaron’s momentary nerves had passed for the most part. “I like chocolate chip waffles. With strawberries.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt regained his composure and smiled, even though Aaron couldn’t see him. “Sounds good! And if you want, we can order once you come out here. Then we can pick up the carry-out together, if you want to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard shuffling on carpet, and then his bedroom door swung open to show Aaron standing in front of him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drowning</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his shirt. Aaron looked almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if he wasn’t twenty-one and already going back to his usual deep-set glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was still a hollow look in his eyes, but even that was fading as Aaron looked up at him. Matt felt bad, he really did. Waking up in a bed that wasn’t his own, unable shower or to get to his own clothes - Aaron had been having a long day, even at barely ten in the morning. Matt wanted to help somehow, but he was so unsure of what to do besides offer breakfast and maybe a hug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you staring at?” Aaron asked bitterly. He was squinting up at the bright room behind Matt, and if looks could kill, there’d be a hole in the wall right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “You,” Matt answered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey brain?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Matt thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Aaron was weirded out by that, he didn’t show it or say anything about it. Matt had a mental image of grabbing himself by the shoulders and shaking him until he stopped acting like… whatever he was acting like right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, you, like, your shirt. My shirt? </span>
  <em>
    <span>The</span>
  </em>
  <span> shirt. It’s still really big on you.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nailed it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt knew he was subconsciously beating around the bush when it came to the reason Aaron was here, in his dorm, wearing his shirt in the first place, but come on. It wasn’t rocket science to know that a full stomach would make any confrontation a little less terrible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron was still glaring at the wall behind Matt, and Matt remembered, for a second time, that Aaron had a headache.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt jerked his thumb towards the dorm kitchen. “The Advil is on the counter, but can I fix your shirt first? You look like you’re swimming in it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron’s glare changed to confusion, but he conceded, walking out of the bedroom completely and standing in the short hallway. Matt wanted to laugh, just a little. Aaron did look just a bit ridiculous, he felt. It couldn’t be helped that smaller people in clearly too-big clothes was something that was funny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt knelt down and gathered up the fabric around Aaron’s waist. There wasn’t too much excess, and Aaron’s muscle definitely filled out more of the shirt’s sleeves than a leaner person might have, but the undeniable truth was that he still had a shorter torso than Matt, and the hem was down at his mid-thighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dan taught me how to do this when we were dating,” Matt said absentmindedly. He twisted the bundle he’d made around to make the process easier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dating Dan had been fun. They worked well together. Their break-up had been more of a mutual “hey, I’m not feeling it anymore” thing, and there was no bad blood between the two. She had taught him all sorts of tips and tricks for making clothes fit when they shouldn’t, and Matt valued every lesson. Matt still counted her as his best friend, much to both Neil and Seth’s protests. Matt argued that having sex with her meant that they were just a little closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He saw a flash of skin while he lifted the shirt to shape the fabric, catching a look at Aaron’s midsection. He would have to ask if he did anything besides the regular ab routine that Abby and Wymack had designed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need all this extra fawning, Matt,” Aaron grumbled, standing with his arms at his sides while Matt tied the excess fabric into a knot at his hip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Matt answered, tightening the knot and standing up. “I figured that I would do it anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron looked skeptical, but relented his glare. Matt briefly wondered if Aaron had ever had someone treat him gently before. Katelyn did, didn’t she? She was his girlfriend, afterall. They had to have been soft with each other at least once, right? Matt pushed the thoughts aside and walked towards the kitchen instead, hoping that Aaron would follow. He perched himself on the countertop and grabbed the bottle of Advil, shaking it in Aaron’s direction. Matt watched Aaron’s split second grimace at the too-loud sound of pills clicking against plastic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How many do you want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron leaned on the counter, propping his chin on his fist. He looked up for a moment, pursing his lips while he thought, a barely audible </span>
  <em>
    <span>hmm</span>
  </em>
  <span> adding to the process.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Four.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” Matt said, shaking four of the caplets into his palm and took a cup out of the cabinet, filled it with water, and handed both to Aaron, who accepted them with a small nod of gratitude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt’s third and final mistake was simply being tired.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watched as Aaron took his things to the coffee table in the living room and set them down. He took a pillow from the couch and set it on the floor, getting comfortable. Matt didn’t know why he stayed watching, as Aaron sipped at his glass of water and swallowed the pills, knowing that he’d asked for a full dose on purpose. He could feel the little fire of anger and exhaustion burning in his chest as he allowed all of his thoughts to come through while waiting on Aaron to have his headache pass. Matt had grabbed some of the trail mix that he kept in his and Neil’s snack cabinet and ate a handful while he took his meds for the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meds that Aaron had almost taken.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron was hurting himself. Aaron had purposely sought out drugs that he could take, in order to get high. It had intention. Aaron meant to be high, and he had done it. And Matt was angry. He was frustrated. He wasn’t sure if the emotions were directed at himself or at Aaron, but the root of the problem was definitely Aaron’s decisions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt was tired. He was so fucking tired. He hated feeling irritated with Aaron, especially when Aaron wasn’t even aware of it. Matt wasn’t even quite sure as to why he was suddenly so bothered by what Aaron had done. There was no </span>
  <em>
    <span>purpose</span>
  </em>
  <span> to Matt being upset. It wasn’t like Aaron was his responsibility or anything. He was just his teammate, and his friend, maybe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It just killed him to think about the fact that Aaron </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he was doing was only hurting him. Matt knew very well how the spiral went, from saying that you had control, to taking just a little more until you despised all of the control you thought you had. He sighed at random, the sound catching Aaron’s attention. Matt knew what he had to do, and he knew that Aaron was going to fight him about it. Matt was unequipped to deal with the problem at hand. He knew what could happen. He knew the risk of keeping silent, and it wasn’t worth it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt pulled his phone out of his back pocket, Waffle House all but forgotten. “I have to call Wymack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Aaron shouted, the sudden noise jarring Matt for a moment. Aaron slammed his cup down on the dorm room coffee table. The water came dangerously close to splashing out of the glass. “He’ll never let me play again,” he said, his voice sounding hollow. “It’ll fuck my college career. I’ll never get into med school. It’ll ruin me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, you should’ve thought about that before you spent two weeks drinking cough syrup for a shitty high, Aaron</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt felt the tears welling in his eyes as he said the fateful words. He saw Aaron’s eyes go wide, his lower lip quivering. Matt didn’t explode like this, but he hadn’t even heard Aaron’s excuses and he was tired of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus fucking Christ, Aaron,” Matt said sternly, collecting himself as best he could. “You know that I know every fucking excuse you’ve got to say. You know that you fucked up.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I </span>
  </em>
  <span>know you do. What was the fucking point, Aaron? What was the point? Andrew detoxed you in a fucking bathroom so you could graduate from high school! And then you go and pull this shit!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt could hear himself getting louder, and he could see that Aaron was shrinking in on himself. He hated that he was blaming Aaron for the relapse. He hated that he was feeding into the addiction by acting like Aaron had just woken up and decided to use again. Addiction was mean. It was gross, and it felt awful, and every time someone blamed you for something, it crept in and whispered that it could fix the problem.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How much did you drop on cough syrup and Red Bull? How many grocery stores and pharmacies did you flash your ID at so that you wouldn’t get caught? Or was it someone else? Did you pay someone to get stuff for you so we wouldn’t find out?” Matt took a shuddering breath and clenched his fists, trying to hold himself together in the midst of his anger and frustration. He wanted to hit something. He’d definitely be making a visit to the gym later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt stood in front of Aaron, large and impeding, and realized he was scaring the shit out of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a smart guy,” Matt said, taking a few short steps and sitting on the couch. He looked Aaron in the eyes, hoping that he could convey that he really did have faith in Aaron, but he was being a fucking dumbass. “Be smart about this. How long did you think that you could keep this up? And do you really think Wymack is going to lose his player because of a relapse? He defended you for murder, for fuck’s sake! If you think that you’re fucked over because of a bottle of NyQuil a night, then you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt wondered for a moment if downloading one of those breathing apps might help him out later tonight. He hated this. He knew that Wymack would be able to help more than he could. Wymack had connections. Wymack had Bee. Wymack had a better relationship with Seth and whatever the hell it took for them to help him get clean. He took another deep breath and set his chin towards Aaron.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m calling Wymack, and you don’t get a fucking say in it, so keep your mouth shut and drink your water.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>check out my twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/cybbetta">cybbetta</a><br/>check out this chapter's playlist on <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/65Zv1mKuvnntUIZprzqKdW?si=pa_B3dQFSAiWl39LRh5faw">spotify!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hindsight Twenty Twenty True</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aaron and Matt spend a lot of time self-reflecting. What they're reflecting on might be a little different, but they certainly can't move on without figuring their current problems out.</p><p>TW for: mentions of aaron's past abuse, talking about relapsing, and descriptions/mentions of scars (NOT GRAPHIC)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>pay attention to the trigger warnings, they're there for a reason!</p><p>a huge thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightquills/">nightquills</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/1032am/">drew</a> for helping me out with the details of this!</p><p>title is from "end of summer (now i know)" by the front bottoms</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You spent two weeks flying high, and for<em> what </em>?” Wymack shouted. He was red in the face, waving his arms and making a scene in the apartment’s main room. Plastic bags of groceries had been placed on the coffee table with a huff as he waited for Aaron to reveal the big secret that had been hinted to him.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron sat uncomfortably on the couch, every muscle tensed until his body was shaking without him realizing. His arms were curled around his stomach, though he wasn’t sure if he was hugging himself or protecting himself as Wymack continued on with his rant. Aaron chewed on the inner part of his lip and allowed himself to discretely glance around the room, noticing now the way that Matt had subtly removed all of the things that could be broken out of arm’s reach before Wymack had shown up. </p><p> </p><p>The time that they had spent waiting for their coach to come back from the grocery store was spent with Aaron taking a very strong interest in the beige carpeting of the apartment, stained with coffee and something that might be whiskey. Whenever he glanced up, Matt alternated between intently studying the chipping paint around the doorframe and nervously shoving his hands in his back pockets - anything to avoid looking at Aaron.</p><p> </p><p>It was unnerving to have the usually happy-go-lucky Matt refusing to look his way. Aaron couldn’t tell if Matt was pissed at <em> him </em>, or if he was afraid that Aaron was mad him. Even Aaron didn’t know what he was feeling.</p><p> </p><p>At the dorm, Aaron couldn’t even bring himself to drink the water, his throat tight as Matt had pulled up Wymack’s contact. Matt hadn’t given much detail in the call, just that he and Aaron were headed to the apartment and that Wymack had better be there. Matt had hinted that Aaron was going to tell him something, but refused to say it outright.</p><p> </p><p>He’d also sat down with Aaron after he’d hung up, playing on his phone and giving Aaron space to finish his drink. After <em> that </em> uncomfortable silence, Matt had packed him up into the truck and had driven off to Wymack’s apartment.</p><p> </p><p>Matt wasn’t <em> mad </em> at him, and it made Aaron uncomfortable, to say the very least. Matt apologized for yelling while they were driving over, telling Aaron that he hadn’t expected to explode the way he did, and that he was sorry, sorry, sorry.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron didn’t understand sorry.</p><p> </p><p>Even when he had been upset, and Aaron had been so, so certain that he was going to hit him, Matt had sat down and collected himself, breathing so that he could talk to Aaron. With Matt standing over him, glaring at him like he’d done everything wrong - Aaron <em> had </em> done everything wrong, he reminded himself - Aaron had miraculously kept his eyes from darting around, knowing that out of flight, fight, or freeze, the third had been his best option to safety at that moment. He had learned that it made the blows easier, that he could minimize the attack if he just stayed still and waited. Running meant he was guilty, fighting meant he was disrespectful; staying still kept him alive. Aaron had <em> seen </em> that look in Matt’s eye - the glint of anger that said he was going to swing at any moment.</p><p> </p><p>But Matt… didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>He had sat down. And he apologized.</p><p> </p><p>Now at the apartment, Aaron had already received a smack to the back of his head, and was currently sitting through Wymack’s yelling. He knew that it was out of concern and frustration, but it still scared him, just a little. He was sensitive right now, but he wasn’t about to interrupt the tyrade. It would be over soon enough on its own.</p><p> </p><p>Wymack was still yelling, his hands flying all over in the air. “For what? To come and cry on my couch and tell me that you’re never going to get into med school because of some fucking cough syrup? My god, Aaron, have you learned nothing from being on this team? I stood by your side when you were acquitted for murder, dumbass, and you think I’m going to give you up to the ERC like you’re nothing?”</p><p> </p><p>His coach took a deep breath and stopped waving his arms around. He walked over to Aaron and sat next to him on the couch. Aaron couldn’t help slipping into the dip caused by Wymack sitting down, ending up leaning against Wymack’s side. He smelled like coffee, and for once, Aaron couldn’t find the attitude to lean away from the man.</p><p> </p><p>“Aaron, I want you to take a breath and tell that little addict part of your brain that you’re worth more than mine and Matt’s yelling. You’re worth more than the ERC’s rules. I’m not giving up the rest of your life because you had a break. You’re going to pick up where you left off, and you’re going to put your head down and do your work, and you’re going to be Aaron Minyard again.”</p><p> </p><p>Wymack carefully moved his hands to turn Aaron to face him. He took Aaron’s shoulders and looked at him. Wymack’s eyes had only sincerity, holding Aaron’s teary stare with honest and earnest concern. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re going to be my backliner, and you’re going to play exy until you graduate. You’re going to get into med school, and I’d better be invited to that graduation. You really think that some NyQuil and motion sickness pills are the end all, be all? You’re stuck with this team, so you’d better suck it up and stick with us too.”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron felt the last of his strength melt away, and his body was suddenly too heavy to hold up anymore. He slumped against Wymack’s side, a fresh wave of tears soaking into the grey wife beater. He was so lucky. He was so fucking lucky. Somewhere in his chest, he felt love. Not like his love for Katelyn had been, but love for the stupid family he’d been given, a family that protected him. A brother that he would kill for. A brother he <em> did </em> kill for. A cousin who’d loved him despite everything he’d done, who deserved to be loved back just as fiercely. And maybe - just maybe - a father in his coach, who shouted and made a lot of noise, but would never hurt him.</p><p> </p><p>Wymack’s arms tentatively came around Aaron’s shoulders, pulling him into an awkward hug while Aaron sobbed, because, <em> fuck </em>, how had he gotten here? How had he gotten to this point, when his mom had always said he was nothing? Aaron couldn’t answer his own questions, and he was tired of thinking about them.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re safe, Aaron. You’re alive, and you’re safe here. I’ve got you,” Wymack said gently, his usually gruff voice softer around the edges. “I’ve got you now. It’s not your job to worry about you anymore. I told you, I’ve got you.”</p><p> </p><p>They spent a few more minutes like that, Wymack holding Aaron together through his tears the way that Matt had held him together in the dorm.  When Aaron felt the crying finally stop, he took a shuddering breath and pulled away from Wymack, wiping his eyes. He still sniffled a little, but that was nothing a tissue couldn’t fix. He looked at Wymack, but he wasn’t sure what that look was trying to convey.</p><p> </p><p>“Now,” Wymack said. “Are we done with the tears?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron nodded. <em> For now, at least, </em> he thought. But that didn’t matter.</p><p> </p><p>Wymack jerked his chin down in a gruffer version of a nod of acknowledgement. “Here,” he said, reaching over to his coffee table and grabbing a few Kleenex from the box on it. “Wipe your nose and go get some sleep. You’ve got punishment laps for the first hour of Monday morning’s practice. Don’t pull some shit like this again unless you want to run for a whole three-hour practice. I can promise that you won’t enjoy it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Coach, we’ve both only been awake for like, an hour,” Matt said from where he was leaning against the doorframe. Aaron saw how his head almost lined up with the top of it, even as he was slouching down.</p><p> </p><p>Wymack made a sound that Aaron had come to learn was his version of a scoff, and raised his eyebrows at Matt.</p><p> </p><p>“And? Minyard here looks like he’s going to knock out if I make him stand up too fast. Go back to the dorms, get some shut-eye, and get this idiot a pair of jeans or something.”</p><p> </p><p>There was the Wymack that Aaron was used to.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron nodded slowly, before getting up and leaving Wymack’s apartment with Matt. As they drove away, Aaron rested his chin on his forearm and stared out the window. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Wymack had said - the very same thing that Matt had said only the night before.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re safe, Aaron. You’re safe here. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>The drive back to Palmetto from Wymack’s wasn’t a very long one, but Matt could swear that it dragged on from the silence. That, or the traffic that was filling up the streets as people flooded in from the freeway for the night’s football game. It was one against the Jackals, and Matt had debated on going with Dan and the girls if they made it back from their vacation in time.</p><p> </p><p>Jesus, it really had barely been nine hours since Aaron had stumbled into Matt’s arms in the hallway. He never knew that eleven in the morning could feel like this.</p><p> </p><p>Like a lifetime. Like a rehab stay. Like being punched in the face - and Matt had been punched in the face plenty of times to know exactly how it hurt.</p><p> </p><p>As he followed the line of cars headed towards Palmetto, a horde of thoughts brewed in his mind. Who else knew? <em> Did </em> anyone else know? What had caused Aaron to relapse in the first place?</p><p> </p><p>Matt figured that he’d better just bite the bullet on this one and ask the only question that he thought really mattered. As they pulled up at a red light, he shot a glance at Aaron, still brooding at the passing housing tracks and restaurants that lined the little downtown. They were coming up on the road that lead to Fox Tower.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, Aaron, what happened that made this happen?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron was silent, staring out the window at the passing scenery. Matt wondered if he’d sprung the question too quickly. He didn’t want Aaron to feel pressured into answering if he wasn’t ready. He heard a short honk behind him and was shaken from his worries, realizing that the light was green. He stepped on the gas just a <em> little </em> too hard and jerked out into the intersection.</p><p> </p><p>He just - well, Matt didn’t know <em> why </em> he cared so much. With anyone else, it would have been easy to ask, to share, to understand. It wasn’t uncommon for him to openly talk about the things he’d gone through and the things he’d done. It helped to understand the reasons that he and others had done it.</p><p> </p><p>“Aaron? You gotta talk about it eventually. What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>The cab of the truck stayed quiet, save for the hum of the engine.</p><p> </p><p>“I was supposed to be five years.”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron’s voice was a mumble, barely audible - something Matt had grown accustomed to in the past few hours that he’d spent with the other Minyard. It was strange to witness Aaron being soft. It felt like a private thing, a moment in time that Matt had been graciously allowed into when he’d answered Aaron’s call in the early morning.</p><p> </p><p>If he weren’t driving, Matt was sure he would’ve frozen, the way that the icy feeling slithered through his bones when Aaron had revealed his own secret. <em> Anniversaries are always the hardest </em> , Matt heard the voice of his old sponsor telling him. <em> They bring up a lot of those ugly feelings, along with the pride of managing for so long. Don’t think you’re ever safe from relapse. Car accidents usually happen the closest to home, when you think that you can let your guard down. </em></p><p> </p><p>“When did it happen?” Matt asked softly. But Aaron didn’t answer. He’d fallen asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, after Matt had fought his way through the thick of traffic in front of the school, he parked in front of Fox Tower. He turned the truck off and leaned over to nudge Aaron’s shoulder, gently jostling him from his nap, but paused with his hand outstretched, only a few inches away from Aaron. He’d shifted his position partway through the ride without Matt noticing, cheek half-assedly propped on his fist with his temple pressed up against the glass of the window. Aaron’s mouth hung open slightly, and he looked peaceful; they way he had when he’d fallen asleep that morning.</p><p> </p><p>Matt almost felt bad waking him. Key word: almost.</p><p> </p><p>“Aaron,” Matt said, just a bit lower than his regular volume of excitement. He closed the gap to Aaron’s shoulder and shook it a little. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron’s hand shot out, swiping harshly at the air, just barely missing Matt’s hand that he’d yanked out of the way just in the nick of time.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently, both Minyards went into attack mode when they were woken up prematurely.</p><p> </p><p>“Leave me the fuck alone,” Aaron grumbled, pulling his hand back to rest in his lap. </p><p> </p><p>Judging from the way his eyes stayed closed, Matt wasn’t about to assume that Aaron was being a dick to be a dick. He probably thought it was Kevin or Nicky coming to wreak havoc on his life.</p><p> </p><p>Before Aaron could doze off again, Matt reached out to get him again, but thought better of it. He had dodged once, but he couldn’t guarantee that he would be so lucky the next time around.</p><p> </p><p>“Aaron, we can sleep inside. I can promise that a dorm room bed is going to be more comfortable than my passenger-side seat.”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron peeled himself off of the window, finally turning to glower at Matt, his lower lip jutting out ever so slightly. God, he looked tired. Not even tired, Matt realized, but worn out. Aaron looked like he’d been to hell and had barely made it back.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron squinted at Matt one last time before he opened his door as Matt shut his own, walking around the front of the truck to meet Aaron. They made it a few feet in silence before  Aaroun grumbled something under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“What was that?” Matt asked, attempting to find a happy medium between chipper and distracted.</p><p> </p><p>“I want a fuckin’ shower,” Aaron said again, louder this time. “I feel like shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt kept his mouth shut in place of listing the many reasons why Aaron felt like shit. Instead, he offered a suggestion.</p><p> </p><p>“We could ask the RA on the first floor if they can open your room up? It might be nice to shower in your own space.”</p><p> </p><p>They made it to the front of the building and Matt swiped his key card to get in, holding the door open for Aaron. He mumbled a <em> thanks </em> as he walked past Matt.</p><p> </p><p>Matt just wanted Aaron to breathe for a moment. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Aaron, who never seemed to cry and who kept himself as contained as possible, to end up where he had, crying because of forgiveness after a two-week bender that he must have been certain was going to ruin his life. Matt had a feeling that Aaron genuinely didn’t believe that he was worth it.</p><p> </p><p>They made their way over to the little branch of the housing office on the first floor in silence. Why they’d only given one RA to Fox Tower was beyond Matt, but it didn’t matter. The teams kept to themselves, and nobody bothered one another, so Matt’s closest justification was that they weren’t as much of a complaint risk as other dorms might be.</p><p> </p><p>He dicked around on his phone while Aaron got a backup key card for his dorm, promising to have it back in ten minutes and thanking the blonde-haired girl working on typing something up on the desk. They took the elevator up to the third floor, once again silent while they stood on opposite sides of the space. Matt kept his face firmly pointed at his phone when Aaron took his own out and started texting someone.</p><p> </p><p>A few moments later, they walked into the familiar hallway. Matt listened for any indication that the girls might be back, and as they crossed to Aaron’s door, if Andrew and his crew were back.</p><p> </p><p>From the way that Aaron unceremoniously slapped the emergency key against the scanner, Matt could guess that they were all still gone. He followed Aaron inside as the Aaron grouched under his breath, stomping to the bedroom. Matt couldn’t really make out what he was saying, but he caught a few words - namely <em> shower </em> , <em> fucking shit </em> , and <em> hella bullshit </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Matt stood in the living room, his hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets as Aaron messed around in the bedroom. After a moment, Aaron stuck his head out of the door and raised an eyebrow at Matt, like he was surprised that he hadn’t left. </p><p> </p><p>“You can sit on my bed or something, if you want to,” Aaron said as he walked out of the room, motioning his hand backwards at it as he spoke. “I’m just gonna go return the key and shower when I get back. You can go back to your room, if you don’t want to sit around, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt shifted on his feet, but jerked his chin towards the bedroom. “I’ll stay, I don’t mind.”</p><p> </p><p>And he really didn’t. Matt wanted to make sure Aaron was fine. <em> Really </em> fine, not just Neil’s vague idea of what <em> fine </em> seemed to mean. Matt was okay with being at Aaron’s side until he died, which was admittedly overdramatic, but still, he meant it.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron gave him a quick <em> okay then </em> and left. Matt sat down on Aaron’s bed, tall enough to rest his his feet flat on the floor. He played on his phone for a while, scrolling through his social media until he heard the door open. Aaron poked his head into the room for a second and Matt glanced over at him. He looked tired.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron walked into the room and pulled open his drawers to grab something other than pyjama pants and went into the bathroom. When he heard the door shut all the way, Matt toed his shoes off and sat with them crossed on the bed. He hoped Aaron wouldn’t mind.</p><p> </p><p>The shower flipped on, and Matt set his phone down, bored by the same old posts he was seeing. He thought about this morning, and all that had happened since then. God, it really had been less than a day since it all had started. When he checked the time, Matt couldn’t believe that it was only noon.</p><p> </p><p>He thought about catching Aaron when he couldn’t hold himself up. He thought about carrying Aaron when he struggled to walk.</p><p> </p><p>He thought about the bathroom. What the fuck did the whole thing mean? Aaron sitting in his lap, humming to himself, leaned against his chest? Did Aaron even realize what had happened?</p><p> </p><p>Matt didn’t know what to do. His mind went blank when he thought about what to say. He didn’t know how to bring it up, or if he even should bring it up.</p><p> </p><p>What Matt did know, was that holding Aaron had been nice.</p><p> </p><p>It kind of reminded him of when he and Dan used to just sit and watch movies together on Netflix, Dan in his lap while his arms wrapped around her torso. It made him smile, to see her relaxed in his hold, sometimes nodding off if the movie was a little too boring for her liking. Aaron had done something similar, relaxing into Matt’s arms after his unfortunate acquaintance with Matt’s toilet. Matt had felt strong, somehow, sitting behind Aaron, holding him.</p><p> </p><p>He’d do it again in a heartbeat. And, if he was in the business of being dramatic today, he’d do almost anything to do it again.</p><p> </p><p>The shower flipped off and Matt pulled out his phone again as he heard cabinets in the bathroom being opened. He saw that Neil had texted him.</p><p> </p><p>- <em> Hey dude, we’re probably leaving around 6-ish and won’t be back until like 9. Idk why we’re still here but I guess we’re going to spend the day doing some history thing that Kevin wants to do </em></p><p> </p><p>- <em> Update: I’ll send pictures of hungover Kevin being a nerd </em></p><p> </p><p>And he had - Kevin looked absolutely miserable, yet incredibly excited in the pictures. Matt’s personal favorite was one where Kevin seemed to have perked up a bit, and was pointing at some statue, looking like he was trying to explain something to a lost Nicky and a bored Andrew. He took a screenshot, fully intending on putting it up in the locker room at some point.</p><p> </p><p>The bathroom door opened and Aaron walked into the room. Matt set his phone down again and had to remind himself not to jerk backwards at the sight of Aaron. The backliner was now wearing a pair of black joggers, one hand shoved in the pockets while the other tossed his pyjama pants into a hamper that sat at the foot of the bunk bed in the room.</p><p> </p><p>What had set Matt reeling was the fact that Aaron was still wearing <em> his </em> shirt, though the knot Matt had put in it was undone.</p><p> </p><p>“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Aaron said sarcastically, walking over to his bed. “And scoot over if you’re going to be here.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Oh shit </em> , Matt thought. <em> Has Aaron caught on? </em></p><p> </p><p>While Matt was internally trying to figure out whether or not Aaron was reading his mind in terms of napping with him, Aaron climbed onto the bed. Matt unconsciously moved until he was on his side, his back up at the wall, giving Aaron space. It was a little horrifying that Aaron was 1.) sleeping with wet hair, and 2.) sleeping on top of the bedding, but Matt was too busy wondering if this was how his day was actually going.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron scooted around on the bed a little, and ended up with his shoulder pressed up against Matt. Matt felt like he was being shown a side of Aaron that no one, except maybe Katelyn go to see. Did God exist? According to his Lola, yes, the big man in the sky did, and, while Matt didn’t know if he believed or not, he made a mental note to thank him later.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, shit. Katelyn. Aaron had a girlfriend, and Matt wondered if Aaron also knew that he had a girlfriend. It wasn’t uncommon for the Foxes to ask Matt to cuddle them sometimes - everyone admitted that Matt was the best source of hugs that the team had.</p><p> </p><p>“You smell like home,” Aaron mumbled, his eyes already starting to close as Matt turned to look at the backliner. Where the hell had <em> that </em> come from?</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron made an irritated huff, like he thought Matt wasn’t able to understand a thing of what he’d just said. Matt did not.</p><p> </p><p>“You smell like home,” he said again, louder as he turned onto his side, his back facing Matt. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the spices or soap or something. Smells good.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt resisted the urge to have his mouth open and close like a fish. Aaron had to be tired. He had to be, because there was no way that Aaron Minyard had just told him that he smelled like <em> home </em>.</p><p> </p><p>There was no way that he had laid next to Matt, gotten comfortable, and then not only said that Matt smelled like <em> home </em> , but had also <em> pointed out </em> the things that made him smell as such. The worst part was that he couldn’t even ask, because Aaron was already slumped over in a way that Matt had come to learn as meaning that Aaron had fallen asleep.</p><p> </p><p>It felt familiar, to be tucked up against a wall with Aaron’s back against him. Matt wondered if anyone had ever told Aaron that he hummed in his sleep. He felt his eyelids starting to droop, almost ready to fall asleep, exhausted from the roller coaster ride that had been his entire day. The off-white above him was just starting to go blurry when he had a moment of realization hit him, lightning quick.</p><p> </p><p>Matt’s eyes shot wide open and he tried to stay as still as possible, as to not disturb the sleeping man next to him while he reached for his phone and opened his messages.</p><p> </p><p>- <em> Hey Dan </em></p><p> </p><p>- <em> Important question </em></p><p> </p><p>- <em> How did you know that you were into dudes </em></p><p> </p><p>Matt tucked his phone back into his pocket and went back to staring at the ceiling, wondering how he’d managed to get himself into this situation.</p><p> </p><p>He yawned, finally, and felt his eyes close for certain this time, letting the hum of the room’s air conditioner lull him to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>A few hours later, Matt found himself and Aaron sitting in the main living space, awkwardly sharing a couch. Aaron’s hair was sticking up on one side, reminding Matt a bit of a mad scientist. It didn’t help that his hair was like that because he’d woken up with his face pressed against Matt’s chest, nor did it help that Matt had woken up holding Aaron to his chest, and it absolutely, one hundred percent did not help Matt with trying to figure out what the fuck he was feeling<em> in </em>his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron was on his phone again, typing. Matt was certain he had to be having a conversation with someone. It was probably Kevin, or Nicky, letting him know where they were. Matt still couldn’t believe they’d slept for the entire day, even though it made sense with all that had happened.</p><p> </p><p>Were they going to talk about how they’d woken up? It seemed a little hard to open the conversation. What was Matt supposed to say? <em> Hey, you know how we woke up with you all curled against me? Yeah, that was nice. Anyway, I know you have a girlfriend, but do you like guys, by any chance? </em></p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t exactly a great way to kick off any important conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna call Andrew,” Aaron said, breaking their awkward silence. “Nicky said they’d be leaving soon.”</p><p> </p><p>Matt nodded. “I think - I’ll, uh, head back to my dorm then,” he said, stumbling over his words. He hoped that Aaron would chalk it up to still being a little sleepy.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron nodded back, eyes already sliding back to his phone, and Matt stood up. He patted down his pockets one last time before leaving the dorm, grateful that he was able to go breathe in his own room for a while until Neil showed up. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna call Andrew,” Aaron said, his voice still a bit raspy, the result of going to sleep right after crying at Wymack’s. “Nicky texted and said they’d be leaving soon. I need - I need to tell him what happened.” Aaron felt his jaw tighten at the prospect.</p><p> </p><p>Telling Andrew was not something that Aaron had ever planned on doing. He had planned on finishing his midterms, fucking off to Columbia for a weekend alone, and then coming back to the Tower when he was good and ready.</p><p> </p><p>But, to be fair, Aaron had also not planned on Matt Boyd. He hadn’t planned on sleeping until six in the evening with him. He hadn’t planned on waking up with Matt in his bed, nor had he planned on waking up in Matt’s bed, with Matt offering him clothes and food and doing his best to get Aaron on the right track, even after all of the bullshit Aaron had pulled in the past twenty-four hours.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron wasn’t afraid of Andrew. He thought that, maybe, at one point in their lives, he had been, but not anymore. Their joint sessions had shown Aaron how Andrew had tried his best to care in the way he knew how. Aaron saw it now, in the way that Andrew still watched the strikers that came at Aaron’s back, or when sour peach rings or sour gummy cola bottles appeared on Aaron’s bus seat during away games.</p><p> </p><p>He saw it now in the way that Andrew nodded at him while he leaned against the hood of the Maserati, finishing up a cigarette. Aaron got into the passenger side and did his best to curl in on himself, giving his mind one last moment of solace before he bore his suffering to Andrew. He felt bad for making Andrew drive another three hours out after just coming back.</p><p> </p><p>His twin ground out the butt of his cigarette on the sidewalk and got into the driver’s seat. He took one look at Aaron, eyes flicking down his person, and back to Aaron’s face, before silently turning the key in the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot.</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t talk for the whole drive. Aaron expected to go all the way to Columbia; he imagined Andrew pulling into the driveway, leading him into the house, and watching him carefully every day while he had a meltdown and admitted that he was stupid. They would come back when Andrew decided that he was fine.</p><p> </p><p>There was no way that Andrew didn’t know what had happened. What Aaron had done. Was he mad? Aaron felt the bile from guilt rising in his throat once again, a feeling that he’d become well-acquainted with in the past hours. He felt his heart speed up in his chest, thumping that had to be audible from how the beats pressed into his skin.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been crying.”</p><p> </p><p>Andrew looked straight ahead at the road, using his blinker - for the first time ever in Aaron’s memory - to pull onto the freeway heading towards Columbia.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron said nothing, just stared at his shoes on the car’s black floor. His knee bounced, despite all of his concentrated effort to keep his anxiety at bay. He wondered if Andrew would pull over and let him throw up on the side of the road. Aaron’s throat burned at the thought; he’d puked far too much in the past few weeks, and figured that he was done with it for the rest of his life.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Andrew’s voice was bland to the untrained ear, bored and focused on driving over anything else. Maybe a little irritated at the truck in front of them, and Aaron honestly wasn’t sure why Andrew had chosen to stay in the slowest lane when he could use the Maserati to make his own path on the road if he really wanted to.</p><p> </p><p>But to Aaron, who had known and lived with his twin for eight years, he heard worry woven in with the boredom.</p><p> </p><p>Worry wasn’t something that Andrew vocalized often, and Aaron felt his nerves fry at the thought of worrying <em>him </em>more than he needed to.</p><p> </p><p>There he was, taking again. Taking Andrew’s peace of mind now, as if Andrew hadn’t put everything on the line for him. Matt was right. Andrew had done so much for him, had gotten him clean, had gotten him onto this <em> team </em>, and here Aaron was, taking his time again.</p><p> </p><p>“Aaron,” Andrew said again, sharper this time, reminiscent of the times when Andrew had been in control. Aaron wanted to flinch at the tone. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron sat up a little straighter, clammy hands coming together to pop his knuckles. He didn’t want to tell him. Andrew knew, Aaron could swear it. Andrew was going to yell at him, was going to explode and leave Aaron behind, alone again.</p><p> </p><p>Words had a funny way of making Aaron feel like he was choking.</p><p> </p><p>“I relapsed.”</p><p> </p><p>The Maserati’s interior had always been sleek, designed for speed and aerodynamics. Aaron had always appreciated Andrew’s taste in the car he’d chosen - even if he would’ve gone with red. It was narrow, beautiful, and meant to go <em> fast </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Right now, Aaron wanted nothing more than to be in the total opposite.</p><p> </p><p>Like Matt’s truck, with its spacious cab and bouncing, easy speed that offered him space to let his nerves run free.</p><p> </p><p>The air around him felt heavier somehow, condensing and pressing in all around Aaron. His  lungs were being compressed, too tight to fill his chest, and Aaron briefly wondered if his diaphragm would just collapse with the weight of his anxieties. He could see it now, the way that he’d filled out his most basic of anatomy homework diagrams: floating ribs sinking down, breaking away from vertebrae with the increasing pressure, the other ten of them squeezing around his lungs and heart until he could swear the bones would puncture the walls of muscle.</p><p> </p><p>He kept his face trained on his shoes, taking in the dirt on his laces and the way he needed to clean the white canvas. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he dared a sideyed glance at Andrew. He caught his brother’s white-knuckled grip on the smooth leather of the steering wheel, saw the way his hands moved to ten and two, to the safest place that they could be. Twins having a sixth sense for each other might not have been proven to exist, but Aaron swore that he knew what Andrew was feeling, regardless of whether they were together or not.</p><p> </p><p>And in this moment, Aaron felt something that he had never anticipated: fear.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the drive to Columbia passed in silence, the gurgling in his stomach ever-present. He ground his teeth together, wrapping his arm tightly around his stomach and turning to rest his chin on the other, resting the forearm against the passenger window. This sucked. Everything about this continually beat Aaron over the head with the reminder that he was a fuck-up, and that Andrew only ever saw him as a fuck-up. He thought he’d fucking proven that he could actually take care of himself, but with Andrew’s iron grip finally loosened, Aaron had clearly shown the opposite.</p><p> </p><p>Andrew flicked his blinker on again and took the exit ramp off, but instead of going to the house, he pulled into the parking lot of the Waffle House right off the exit. It was fairly empty, and Andrew parked in a spot near the edge of the lot. It was too early for the late night munchies crowd, but Aaron imagined that they’d appear soon.</p><p> </p><p>They sat together, both staring out the front window at the row of scrubby bushes that lined the planters where they’d parked.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you still hide your scars?" Andrew asked after a few moments of silence, uncharacteristically gentle for his personality. His stare was boring into the bushes, and Aaron saw the way his fingers twitched, like they wanted a cigarette and an end to the conversation.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron felt his chest tighten for a moment. Of course Andrew would mention them. A car talk was the only place that they could ever be mentioned. Not even Betsy knew. Andrew had kept his promise to protect Aaron, even in their sessions. Kept his mouth shut the way Aaron had when Betsy asked how similar they were.</p><p> </p><p>Late-night car talks were special. They were places for barren honesty; nothing but the deepest fears and the wildest dreams were exposed to the little bubble of space, separated from the world by a few panes of tinted glass. A car talk existed on its own. A timeless, senseless place, perfect for telling secrets and sharing hidden truths that would never exist in the open.</p><p> </p><p>"Why are you asking stupid questions?" Aaron answered, turning to glare at Andrew. He wasn't sure if his tone was intended to be angry or defensive. </p><p> </p><p>"I know you still come out of the shower with your shirt on. Did you hide them from her too?" The <em> her </em> came out with disdain, and though Aaron went back to staring firmly out the window, he could feel Andrew's lip curling in the way his own was.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron knew what Andrew was really asking. It had nothing to do with Katelyn, or with his hidden secrets, and everything to do with all of the lies he’d told to keep people distracted from how badly he’d been struggling. What Andrew wanted to know was: <em> did you only relapse with using? </em></p><p> </p><p>It took a moment for Aaron to work up the courage to answer Andrew’s question. He felt phantom goosebumps from his waist to his thighs, and in his mind’s eye, he could see every raised line that criss-crossed where smooth skin should be.</p><p> </p><p>“You worry too much,” Aaron said at last. It was an answer without being an answer. <em> No, I didn’t. Only the drugs, Andrew. </em> Maybe if he set his brows enough, he could burn a hole through the bushes.</p><p> </p><p>He heard Andrew sigh, in both frustration and relief. “You were supposed to be five years.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was.”</p><p> </p><p>“What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hands twitching around until he finally unbuckled his seatbelt and sank down like a pouting child. He didn’t want to talk about this. He wished that he could fall asleep again, like he had in Matt’s truck. There was no easy answer to the question. Midterms? A plummeting relationship with the girl who taught him that he could be loved? Life in general? All were valid and perfectly reasonable answers, but how could he explain that all of them <em> and </em> none of them were the reason for it?</p><p> </p><p>Everything was a problem, and Aaron was supposed to be the problem-solver, but he gave up. He didn’t want to fix things anymore. He just wanted to exist for one moment without having to feel like he was looking out for everyone around him.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron wanted to be a doctor because he could take care of people. He was capable hands and a determined heart, ready to make sure that his patients were taken care of. Aaron could be in control. Could save lives. In his future plans, Aaron was everything that he’d been told that he wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Tears were building behind is eyes, and Aaron couldn’t help but squeeze them shut, letting them fall. His chest swelled uncomfortably, sharp pains shooting through the muscles, throbbing like a bruise. All of the guilt and pain and stress that he’d felt in the past weeks bubbled to the surface, filling up in his heart and overflowing, spilling into the world.</p><p> </p><p>Again with the fucking up. Always with the fucking up. How could Matt just act like Aaron was fine? How could Wymack tell him that he’d be okay? Aaron desperately wanted to believe that they were telling the truth, that he’d be Aaron Minyard, number five, backliner for the Palmetto Foxes. How could they be right though? After everything he’d done? After throwing his self-preservation to the wind, he just wanted to make all the hurt he felt <em> go away </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andrew change from glaring out the window to face him. Somehow, Aaron was glad that he still made it a habit to check on him.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron was crying, again, this time with wracking sobs that burned as they tore through his throat. His body shook as he coughed through his tears, loud and sharp and painful. “All the fucking… effort you put into this, all the sessions with - with Betsy,” Aaron said thickly. “Down the <em> fucking </em> drain… I can’t - I can’t take care of myself, and then Katelyn happened, and then she stopped, and the moment you stopped forcing me to exist, I just didn’t want to anymore, and - and -” </p><p> </p><p>Aaron took a moment to wipe his eyes, scrubbing his sleeve over his cheeks roughly. He felt all of his emotions starting to blur and fade away into white in the back of his mind, his dissociation a product of his years of abuse. With a quickly hollowing stare, he faced his twin and took a shuddering gasp, voice barely a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>“It <em> hurts </em>, Andrew.”</p><p> </p><p>The car fell silent, heavy with a revelation that Aaron didn’t even know he was going to have. It was true though, and that scared Aaron more than the fact that he’d just spilled his guts to Andrew in a way that he had never thought possible, in this lifetime or the next.</p><p> </p><p>Everything just… hurt, recently. There was no other way to describe the last two weeks other than painful. Waking up felt like a chore. Going to classes was unbearable. Everything made Aaron feel like he was trying to keep afloat with weights on his ankles when he desperately just wanted to sink beneath the waves.</p><p> </p><p>They stared at each other for a moment, and Aaron truly felt, for the first time, that they looked identical. Slightly slack-jawed, faces mirroring each other in every way down to the light freckles that spread across their noses; two pairs of tear-red owlish eyes, wide and haunted, studied each other, searching for god knows what in their depths.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron was the first to break their shared gaze. He hurriedly turned away from Andrew, fumbling with the door handle. He needed to get out of the car, <em> now </em>. Anything to be away from his darkest memories and the biggest truth he’d ever told. After a few seconds of his trembling fingers struggling to grasp the handle, the door thankfully swung open, and Aaron stumbled his way to the asphalt, nearly tripping himself in the process.</p><p> </p><p><em> Very classy </em>, he thought. Eating shit in the Waffle House parking lot at midnight would certainly make for an exceptional end to his last two hours in a day that felt like hell.</p><p> </p><p>Using the Maserati for balance, Aaron straightened himself and shut the door before taking a few steps to stand at the rear of the car. A moment later, Andrew’s door slammed shut and he joined his brother at the trunk. </p><p> </p><p>They stood together, just far enough that each had space to breathe, watching as the flow of ride shares steadily increased. Groups of people in flashy clothes made their way to the brazen yellow beacon of hope, filling up the booths and counters of the diner. Andrew was still tapping his fingers in the comforting beat that Aaron knew meant his nerves and his nicotine addiction were acting up again. He turned a little to step away, to grab Andrew’s emergency pack from the glove compartment. Neil and Betsy had both asked Andrew to scale back on his habit, but with the stress he was under right then? One cigarette might do him some good.</p><p> </p><p>Andrew caught Aaron off-guard by reaching out for Aaron’s bicep, turning him back and crushing him in a bear hug. Aaron froze for a moment, his arms stuck at his side, before quickly wrapping them around Andrew under his armpits, matching his strength. It was a fierce hug, pressing all around his lungs, squeezing around his shoulders and holding him just a little too tightly. Gripping each other like there was nothing else that mattered more in that moment than keeping the other grounded, making sure that they were both solid, and <em> real </em> , and that neither was going <em> anywhere </em> without his twin by his side.</p><p> </p><p>They stood like that for a moment, the yellow lights of the Waffle House parking lot spreading long shadows on the asphalt behind them. As if on command, they both let out a deep sigh, continuing to hold each other, tighter even, if that was possible. At this point, it felt like they were holding each other up, body weight supported against the other as they cautiously balanced.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron had never been hugged by Andrew, but he felt like he could get used to it. He understood now why Neil was always trying to get hugs from him - Andrew’s arms felt safe. He wondered if this was what it meant to be a twin; to be the same but different, to be able fit together like a two-piece puzzle, to have someone who knew you as much as you knew them.</p><p> </p><p>A few moments longer, Andrew pulled away from Aaron, placing his hands heavily on his shoulders. Aaron mimicked his hand placements and looked into hazel that matched his own, and could only guess that Andrew was seeing the same.</p><p> </p><p>“Waffles?” Andrew said, letting the word out with a breath, his face breaking into one of the very few genuine smiles that Aaron had ever seen him have.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron felt a weary smile of his own grow on his face, relief and comfort and happiness flooding his chest with warmth. He gave one quick nod, and gently squeezed Andrew’s shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Waffles.”</p><p> </p><p>They walked to the doors, standing a little closer to each other than they had before.</p><p> </p><p>A few hours later, Aaron was half-asleep, forehead pressed awkwardly to the glass of the Maserati’s window as Andrew bumped along the rougher parts of the freeway back to Palmetto. A particularly large bounce knocked Aaron’s skull against the glass, effectively bringing him back from the edge of sleep and back to the land of the living. He stared out the window dramatically, watching the lights of the little towns in between the pitch blackness of the hills.</p><p> </p><p>Music was playing softly on the radio, some guitar-heavy track that Andrew was mumbling the words along to. It was a miracle that Aaron had managed to fall asleep with it as background noise, even if it was as low as it could possibly go. The smell of their leftover buttermilk waffles mixed with strawberries and chocolate, overwhelming the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to the interior of the car.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron adjusted himself in his seat to be upright, and felt his phone buzz. On instinct, he shot a harrowed look at Andrew, still reeling from their earlier conversation, followed by the hug that they’d shared before their dinner. Aaron ignored the uncomfortable heat that he felt on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Permission? No, they’d broken that cycle months ago, with Betsy’s help. Acknowledgement? It wasn’t out of the question, but Andrew had just spent a while doing more than enough in that department. </p><p> </p><p>Support, then? Just knowing that Andrew was there, immovable as always, holding Aaron up in ways that he never had before.</p><p> </p><p>His phone vibrated again and he dug his hand into his hoodie’s pocket, pulling it out as the screen lit up to show two messages from an unknown number. </p><p> </p><p>“Jesus Christ,” Aaron mumbled out, squinting at the screen and fumbling around while swiping up, desperately trying to turn the brightness down.</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty sure that’s just your phone screen, but I’m not religious, so who knows,” Andrew said, waving a hand aimlessly in the air before returning it to the steering wheel and changing lanes to get around a semi-truck that was trundling along in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron paused for a moment, the words processing, before he turned to face his brother with a vaguely irritated look, his eyebrows scrunched together. Andrew was always one for quick one-liners, but they were still stupid jokes, and Aaron still had the same reaction.</p><p> </p><p>Andrew shot a quick glance at his brother before bringing his eyes back to the road. “What?” He asked, a laugh bubbling up into his words. “I’m not <em> wrong </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>To anyone else (save for idiot Neil, probably), Andrew’s laugh would’ve seemed out of place, wrong for who he had become over the years, whittled down to nothingness by the many sorrows and pains he’d faced. To Aaron, it belonged to the brother he’d found inside the four walls of Betsy’s office.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re dumb,” Aaron answered, drawing out the <em> mm </em> in time with his rolling eyes. He quirked the corner of his mouth up in a half smile and shook his head a little. It felt strange, the Bay Area slang that rolled so easily off his tongue. Even five years after being away from San Jose, he still fell back into the speech patterns with Andrew like he’d never left.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m hella funny, and you know it,” Andrew shot back lightly, and Aaron saw a smirk still playing at his mouth, despite his quick return to his normal blandness.</p><p> </p><p>They must have been nightmares to Nicky on the rare occasions that they spoke between themselves all those years ago.</p><p> </p><p>Aaron’s phone went off again, and the screen lit up, thankfully much dimmer than it had been before. All three texts were from the same person, and Aaron expected that someone had typed the wrong phone number by accident. He swiped his finger across the screen and opened his messages, hoping that he’d get something funny to screenshot and show Nicky later.</p><p> </p><p>- <em> Hey, Aaron, this is Seth. Coach texted me and gave me your number </em></p><p> </p><p>- <em> I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m sending these before I head off to bed at a kinda reasonable hour lmao </em></p><p><br/>
- <em> He said something about helping you out, so if you text back, I’ll reply in the morning! </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>follow me on twitter @<a href="https://twitter.com/cybbetta">cybbetta</a><br/>and tumblr @<a href="https://www.alvarezforthegame.tumblr.com">alvarezforthegame</a><br/>check out this chapter's playlist on <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/14EfsilbwYIkOYXVlR2fEE?si=-GqPkAW1Qom8jiEQgSKDPA">spotify!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Little Dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Matt is, unfortunately, too self-aware for his own good.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>as always, a huge thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightquills/">nightquills</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/1032am/">pike</a> for helping me out with the details of this!</p><p>title is from "little dreams" by ellie goulding</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What woke Matt up was the fact that his arm had fallen asleep.</p><p>Blearily, he blinked open his eyes, taking in the dorm room around him and wondering why he was facing the window instead of having it to the side of his head like he normally did. He hadn’t done anything since getting back from Wymack’s except walk Aaron back to his dorm and - oh.</p><p><em> Oh </em>.</p><p>In a startling moment of clarity, all of the few hours he’d been awake came rushing back to him: Aaron asleep in his truck. Aaron being whiny about his key card. Getting to Aaron’s dorm, waiting on Aaron’s bed, taking a nap - oh god, he was <em> waking up in Aaron’s bed </em>.</p><p>And Aaron was <em> with </em> him, curled into Matt’s chest, his cheek pressed up against his bicep as he breathed softly, completely unaware of where he was. Matt resisted the urge to wrap his arm around Aaron’s shoulders and pull him closer.</p><p>This was bad. Bad in that Matt knew exactly what was happening, and bad in that he knew that Dan was going to make fun of him when she got back from the beach. </p><p><em> Oh my god </em> , Matt thought, resisting the urge to grimace. <em> I’m pining </em>.</p><p>At least he was self-aware.</p><p>The prickling in his arm was starting to get unbearably so, and he felt his fingertips starting to go numb. Aaron might not look it - actually, who was Matt kidding? He would only be lying to himself at this point - Aaron looked every bit like he was heavy enough to cause the numbness. He did share Andrew’s genes, Matt thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side for a moment, pursing his lips. He guessed that it was no surprise that Aaron was built like a brick wall with a bad attitude.</p><p>Not wanting to risk a second round of being on the receiving end of Aaron’s fist if he woke him up unceremoniously, Matt tried to gently adjust himself and wriggle his arm out from beneath the backliner, but to no avail. Aaron groaned a little and scrunched up his face before cracking open his eyes and giving a glare that only the Minyards could achieve. Matt briefly wondered if Nicky could do it too.</p><p>Too late, Matt realized he was staring. And that Aaron had woken up.</p><p>Aaron had moved his head back, giving himself space between his face and Matt’s chest. It wasn’t lost on Matt that Aaron’s leg was swung over his thigh, but he thought it better to not mention it. </p><p>Didn’t mean that he desperately wanted to hitch it higher to his hip.</p><p>“What?” Aaron asked softly, narrowing his eyes. “What do you want, Matt?”</p><p>Matt’s mouth was dry, cotton-filled quiet that prevented him from answering honestly.</p><p>
  <em> Everything. </em>
</p><p>He wanted Aaron to be healthy. He wanted Aaron to be safe. He wanted Aaron to see how much everyone cared about him, and he wanted to show Aaron how he felt about him.</p><p><em> Want </em> was not a word that Matt had ever really thought about. He wanted the Foxes to win games, sure. He wanted his senior year of college to be as fun as possible. He wanted a lot of things, but with Aaron, it was different. There was something more than just the most basic definitions of want. For Aaron, Matt wanted the sun and the moon and every star in the sky.</p><p>And he <em> really </em> wanted to kiss him.</p><p>Matt easily pulled Aaron the rest of the way on top of his lap, rolling onto his back as Aaron got comfortable. Matt couldn’t believe what was happening as he took in the sight of Aaron straddling him, feeling like he was on cloud nine as Aaron worked his hips around in a way that Matt half-hoped was unintentional, but wouldn’t be opposed to if it was the opposite. Aaron was breathtaking - his hair sticking up at odds and ends from his falling asleep while it was still wet, bedhead giving him a half-assed halo that was shining in the backlit glow of the late afternoon sun. He was angelic, and Matt thought that, if he stared long enough, he might actually start believing that there was a God. </p><p>He was still wearing Matt’s <em> fucking </em> shirt, the almost-orange one that always made Matt look tanner and showed off all of his muscles in the right places, and on Aaron, it just looked so <em> right </em> , like he was supposed to be wearing it. Matt accepted his fate, accepted that he would lose his mind over this moment later, but that was for later Matt to deal with and <em> this </em> was for current Matt to enjoy. His shirt was too loose to be form-fitting on Aaron, but Matt didn’t have to imagine as he slid his hands beneath the hem, running his palms over Aaron’s stomach and feeling the backliner’s abs tense at the touch.</p><p>Matt traced his hands up Aaron’s sides, lifting the shirt and catching sight of Aaron’s chest, and he just <em> needed </em> to touch, to feel, to make Aaron do something other than bite his bottom lip and wring his hands nervously while he tried to avoid looking at Matt. Matt saw that the blush across his cheeks ran high, reddening Aaron’s ears as he took a sudden interest in the bunk bed across the room from them. </p><p>He set to work pushing the fabric higher, slowly revealing Aaron’s joggers low on his waist, the line of a happy trail on strong abs, and skin that Matt wanted to leave marked up for days. He could almost see the way that hickies would look littered across his chest, a path trailing down to Aaron’s hip bones, could almost hear the way Aaron might moan for him, might ask him for more, might actually break down his barriers for once and say what he wanted out loud.</p><p><em> And I would be powerless to resist </em>, he thought to himself as he pushed the hem of the shirt to Aaron’s collarbones, putting his entire torso on display. He would give Aaron whatever he asked for, in a heartbeat. He was vaguely aware that this really would only serve as ammunition for Dan to tease him about once he told her, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Matt pushed the thought aside as he slid his hands down to Aaron’s pecs, desire winning over his brain. The shirt fell, covering most of Aaron’s chest and Matt was just a bit disappointed, but he couldn’t be bothered to say anything about it.</p><p>Aaron let out the smallest gasp as Matt’s thumbs brushed over his nipples, hazel eyes widening as he looked down to Matt. With Aaron’s back to the window and the shirt in the way, Matt couldn’t tell if the flush ran all the way down his chest, and Matt wanted to know - <em> god </em>, he wanted to know everything about Aaron, but he would settle for a kiss right now.</p><p>It was easy to catch Aaron’s attention. Matt let his hands drop from feeling up Aaron’s chest, gently dragging his blunt nails down Aaron’s back, enough to raise goosebumps without leaving any marks. Aaron straightened with a gasp and looked toward the ceiling, while he covered his mouth with his hand. Matt hungrily eyed the muscles of Aaron’s neck, tracing an invisible line to barely exposed collarbones as his hands found their way to the small of Aaron’s back, and then dipped lower, and he suddenly remembered that Aaron was very much not his significant other, and that Aaron very much had a girlfriend.</p><p>It took a moment, but he found the words he was looking for.</p><p>“Aaron,” Matt said with gravelly sleep-voice, his hands resting at the small of Aaron’s back and his fingertips barely touching the waistbands of Aaron’s boxers and joggers.</p><p>Matt wanted to touch. He wanted so badly to feel Aaron react to him, to hold him and never let go. There was so much of Aaron to explore, and Matt was enamoured with every part. This though, this could wait. They weren’t a couple, they hadn’t talked, and Matt didn’t want to push a boundary that he wasn’t aware of. That, and Aaron was <em> dating someone </em>, for fuck’s sake.</p><p>“Hmmm?” Aaron hummed, and, as much as he wanted to keep looking, Matt dragged his gaze away from Aaron’s neck to see his eyes half-lidded and his hand loosely resting on his chin instead of covering his mouth, dragging his lower lip down in a way that went directly to Matt’s dick. </p><p>“Come down here,” Matt said thickly, making a split second decision that he would definitely regret later. His hands left the dips in the small of Aaron’s back and ran back up to his shoulder blades, pulling Aaron gently forward, toward him. Aaron complied easily - much easier than Matt expected, from his previous experiences with the backliner - dropping his hands to rest on Matt’s shoulders as he lowered himself until they were almost chest to chest. Matt could smell the detergent he used, amazed that its claim of being a long-lasting scent was actually true. </p><p>Even moreso, he was amazed by Aaron, his eyes glazed over just a little as he sleepily smiled down at Matt. Matt had never noticed the freckles across his nose before, but then again, Matt hadn’t started noticing Aaron until recently.</p><p>Matt didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know why he was encouraging Aaron’s cheating - did it even count as cheating? And he knew he should stop it but… </p><p>Aaron was right there, lips only a few breaths away. Matt was already imagining how Aaron’s mouth would feel. Would it be soft? A gentle meeting, shy and cautious, kept quiet the way it should be, because Aaron had Katelyn, and Matt wasn’t supposed to be kissing a taken man? Or would it be hard, made up of breathless strength and bruising determination as the two of them let themselves go in secret, hidden away from the rest of the world by Aaron’s comforter and the bedroom door?</p><p>Matt dared a glance at Aaron’s mouth, hanging open like it was supposed to be a grin, but he couldn’t quite muster the full thing with Matt’s hands palming through his underwear. Matt squeezed the muscle again, to hear Aaron make the softest almost-whine, fingers tightening their grip on Matt’s shoulders. Matt reasoned that he could forget about Katelyn for a moment and bit his lower lip with a cheeky smile before he tilted his chin to close the gap between them, Aaron leaning down <em> achingly </em> slow to meet him in the <em> middle </em></p><p>Matt was having what some people might call a crisis.</p><p>He was having said crisis because he had just woken up from dreaming about waking up in Aaron Minyard’s bed, with Aaron Minyard in <em> his </em> shirt, straddling <em> his </em> lap, leaning down to kiss <em> his </em> lips. Said dream had given Matt the most unbearable hard-on that he’d had in a while, and he could hear Dan calling his name through the dorm room door while she knocked.</p><p><em> I will not think about Aaron </em> , Matt mentally reprimanded himself as he stood up and grabbed for the first thing he could reach that would camouflage his current situation. <em> Not him moaning, not him gasping, or the way that his lips might look when they were flushed red from kissing, and especially not that wonderful half-smile with half-lidded eyes…  </em></p><p>That was not fixing his problem.</p><p>Matt swung the dorm room door open, just to find Dan almost cartoonishly knocking into him as if he were still the door.</p><p>“What’s up?” He asked with a bright smile that he hoped would mask his situation, taking in Dan. She was in sweats and a tank top, probably what she’d worn on the drive back. He couldn’t, wouldn’t deny that she looked good. “Are we all still going to the football game?”</p><p>Dan stared incredulously at Matt, like he was completely aloof to the situation.</p><p>“Are we still going to the football game?” She asked, like she was almost irritated. A finger was poked into his chest accusingly. “You text me asking how I knew I was into guys, and you want to know if we’re going to the <em> football game </em> - are you hard?”</p><p>Matt watched her face contort in confusion, and a touch of distress for added flavor as her eyes connected the dots between his tensed shoulders and the five-subject notebook strategically placed over his crotch. She pulled her finger away slowly, before balling her hand into a loose fist at her side. </p><p>Matt took a breath. This was easy - all he had to do was say no, and excuse himself to go change so that they could all go to the game. It was a foolproof plan that allowed him the time and space to will his unfortunate dick to calm the fuck down.</p><p>“Yes - <em> dang it </em>.”</p><p>She just stared at him, blinking her eyes in disbelief for a moment. “Jesus Christ, Matt. We’ll see you in an hour when we’re ready for the game. And you -” she motioned her hand aimlessly in his the direction of his lower half. “You can fix your… <em> situation </em>.”</p><p>And that was that.</p><p>An hour later, Matt found himself sitting on the bleachers of the Palmetto football stadium, freezing his ass off on the cold metal. It was halftime, and Renee had just come back from the food stand with nachos for everyone. Matt gladly ate his as Dan stared in disgust at his serving.</p><p>“Matt, do you want some nachos with your jalapenos?”</p><p>Matt rolled his eyes with a lighthearted smile as he ate another cheese sauce-drenched chip that was, admittedly, more jalapeno than chip.</p><p>“So,” Allison said matter-of-factly, waving her own much less cheesy chip to get everyone’s attention. “Matt, honey, how could you drop such a bombshell on us in the middle of our drive home?”</p><p>Matt paused mid-chew. He swallowed, feeling a piece of jalapeno make its way down uncomfortably. “<em> Us? </em> ” He turned to return Dan’s incredulous look from earlier in the day. “You <em> told </em>them?”</p><p>Dan hid her laugh behind her hand. Or, she tried to, anyway. It was doing a rather poor job of blocking her snort.</p><p>“What happened to “just between us”?” Matt said as he made air quotes, eyes wide.</p><p>He was glad that Dan and the girls knew him so well. He was certain that anyone listening in on the conversation might assume that he was actually upset, just by the sheer sight of a giant man waving his arms around and making what could be considered a <em> scene </em> of sorts.</p><p>“Yeah,” Allison said, butting in as Dan tried to stop laughing. “Don’t you know that best friends are basically one person?”</p><p>“Oh <em> god </em>,” Matt groaned, putting his head in his hands. He ignored the gross feeling of cheese sauce against his forehead, remnants from a finger he forgot to wipe off on his jeans.</p><p>Well, at least he had two girls who were into guys who could help him in this particular situation. Even after four years, he wasn’t clear on where Renee stood, but the small part of his mind that cared more about exy that sexuality had always just conceded that she was a good goalie, so it didn’t matter. Plus, it was Renee. She always had good advice.</p><p>A gentle hand tapped on his shoulder. Matt looked up to see Renee smiling her signature soft smile at him, her eyes sparkling. She nudged him and, upon seeing the cheese on his forehead, dug around in the pocket of her little backpack to offer him a wet wipe to clean off.</p><p>“Now, who’s the lucky guy?” Renee asked, tucking a multicolored piece of hair beyond her ear. Matt knew he never should have trusted her niceties, not when the girls were trying to solve the mystery of Matt’s love life.</p><p>“You’re a double agent,” Matt said in mock shock, wiping at his forehead and balling the wipe up. “I’m being doublecrossed into sharing classified information.” </p><p>Dan snorted again, this time not even trying to hide behind her hand. “I mean, you could tell us,” she said with a smile, scooping up the chips that were too soft to hold with a fork. “But you know that we’re not going to force anything. I do want to know what brought on such a sudden realization, though.”</p><p>Allison and Renee nodded as the whistle for the start of the second half of the game started.</p><p>Matt sighed and set his nachos aside, leaning back on the bleachers. He looked all three of his cohorts in the eyes, gauging their reactions. Allison had an eyebrow raised in interest, Renee was offering a patient smile, and Dan was simply waiting.</p><p>“You all have to swear you won’t say anything,” he said solemnly.</p><p>“Foxes’ honor,” Dan said, raising her hand.</p><p>He was really going to do this. He was really going to say everything that he’d been thinking in the past day. Aaron had been through a lot, and it was weird to think that he’d been the one at Aaron’s side for most of it.</p><p>Matt took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. A physical reaction to taking the plunge, if one would.</p><p>“Aaron.”</p><p>Instead of shocked silence, Matt was met with a choking sound, followed by coughing as Dan hunched over from her seated position. Allison reached over and started patting her back, but she didn’t stop staring at Matt.</p><p>“<em> Minyard </em> ?” Allison asked incredulously, rubbing Dan’s back as she sat up. “Since <em> when </em>?”</p><p>The sound of the game drowned out the near shouts of surprise, and Matt was grateful that a few innocent and unknowing bystanders were the only people at risk of hearing the ordeal that was happening. A whistle blew for something, but Matt was too busy thinking about Allison’s question: since when?</p><p>To be honest, Matt wasn’t really sure. There hadn’t been some incredible moment, some glorious realization. No dramatic, longing stares when he was on the bench resting while Aaron was on court. In fact, there was really no reason that Matt could actually put his finger on that would mark itself as the <em> when </em> of his now-existing attraction to Aaron Minyard. But one dream about making out with someone didn’t count as having a <em> crush </em> on them.</p><p>And he said just that.</p><p>Bad idea.</p><p>The way that all three girls shouted <em> a dream? </em> had Matt jerking backwards, nearly losing his balance and almost folding into the space between the two rows of seats. The cold metal sent goosebumps up his arm as he caught himself against the bleacher behind him, his ass narrowly missing the short but sudden drop.</p><p>The hole that he had managed to dig for himself was already three feet wide and eight feet long, he may as well make it six feet deep too.</p><p>The girls were his friends - his most trusted companions, if he was being honest. If worse came to worse, the most they’d do is poke fun at him for a while and then move on. There was no reason to fear them, and yet, Matt felt his chest tighten a bit at the prospect of telling them.</p><p>Renee looked at him sympathetically, as if she could sense his anxiety. She had always seemed to have a sixth sense for emotions - a lifesaver amongst the Foxes. “Matt, it’s alright if you don’t want to share. You aren’t under any oath.”</p><p>Matt shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay.” It would be worth it to tell at least them, rather than keep it to himself. He’d already revealed his feelings to Dan (and Allison, and Renee, apparently), it wasn’t like they were completely in the dark.</p><p>So he told them everything, from the way that he had held onto his shoulders, had fluttered his eyes - those gorgeous hazel eyes - as Matt’s fingers had traced lines into his skin. How Aaron’s mouth hung open with every breath, the way the blush ran high on his cheeks, how Matt felt goosebumps raise with every touch. And how that soft smile, still sleepy and oh so sweet, had beamed down at Matt in the same way that the sunset light of golden hour had spread across the room.</p><p>Everything about Aaron was honey colored - his eyes, his hair, right down to the freckles that danced across the bridge of his nose.</p><p>Matt left out the part where Aaron said he smelled like home. That could wait for another day. A day he hoped would never come, because the girls would be relentless about that.</p><p>“Oh my <em> god </em> ,” Allison said, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. “You are so <em> gone </em> for him.”</p><p>Much like his ordeal with Dan earlier, all Matt had to do was excuse himself - to the bathroom, to a water fountain - anywhere that would give him space to will away whatever weird feelings came over him when he thought about Aaron. And, much like his ordeal earlier, his mouth had other ideas, ones that involved completely ignoring his master plans to not dig himself a deeper hole.</p><p>“Listen, listen, it’s not what you think!” Matt said, lifting his arms as a sign of surrender. “I swear, it was just a dream.”</p><p><em> Oh, for the love of god </em>, Matt thought. He really needed to get a handle on his answers.</p><p>“Yeah,” Allison said with almost a scoff. “A dream about Aaron Minyard, the grouchy backliner with no team spirit, wearing your clothes and making out with you, and all you did was encourage it.”</p><p>Matt widened his eyes. “Okay, <em> and </em>?”</p><p>What was he supposed to do? <em> Not </em> let himself be encompassed by Aaron and the overwhelming <em> want </em> that he made Matt feel? As if. Matt wasn’t a complete idiot.</p><p>“<em> And </em> you woke up with a hard-on that I can <em> bet </em> you spent thirty minutes of that hour I gave you trying to get rid of,” Dan said, like she was stating the obvious.</p><p>He looked to Renee for help, but her bemused smile told him that he had no allies here.</p><p>“Sorry, Matt,” she said, shaking her head. “It sounds like it might be exactly like we think.”</p><p>Matt shook his head. “Who’s side are you on, anyway?”</p><p>“Unfortunately, I don’t think you have much of a chance at winning this argument,” Renee answered.</p><p>“So maybe it <em> might </em> be what you say it is. A minor crush isn’t going anywhere, and he’s still got a girlfriend, so there’s no hope anyway.”</p><p>There was always hope, a little voice in the back of Matt’s mind whispered. Hope was something that all of the Foxes had, and Matt was no different. But hoping lead to yearning, and Matt was already far too aware of the pining that his brain was subjecting him to.</p><p>Allison raised one brow and dropped the other down. “You guys napped together in his bed.”</p><p>“You called his eyes gorgeous,” Dan supplied.</p><p>“And said his skin was soft,” Renee added.</p><p>Matt resigned himself to the realization that he had no hope of convincing them that he wasn’t falling for Aaron Minyard.</p><p>He could try to avoid that fact himself a little longer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>come hang out with me on twitter @<a href="https://twitter.com/cybbetta">cybbetta</a><br/>and tumblr @<a href="https://www.alvarezforthegame.tumblr.com">alvarezforthegame</a><br/>check out this chapter's playlist on <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2bqLy2EydTEMbGTfHZVkWq?si=18xTc-54RliEcgSiTG_0qA">spotify!</a></p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>follow me on twitter @<a href="https://twitter.com/cybbetta">cybbetta</a><br/>and tumblr @<a href="https://www.alvarezforthegame.tumblr.com">alvarezforthegame</a><br/></p></blockquote></div></div>
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